


Out Of The Grass

by sea_side



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Dutch is a savage and everyone loves it, Flashbacks, Humiliation, I just love to destroy the bad guys ok?, Multi, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sexual Content, Torture, Violence, basically Micah Whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-29
Updated: 2019-12-12
Packaged: 2019-12-26 09:20:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 28,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18280259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sea_side/pseuds/sea_side
Summary: Micah is found out to be a traitor by accident and is doomed to bear with everything that follows.As if that wasn’t enough, his past life catches up to him and soon he sees himself caught between two angry gang leaders who seek revenge.--> This Fanfic is basically an authorized AU of „A Snake in the Grass“ by I_Have_A_Goddamn_Plan. <--Check it out! :DYeah, this is what I made out of this…This story explains itself, so you don't have to know every detail from the original story.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [A Snake in the Grass](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18008618) by [I_Have_A_Goddamn_Plan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_Have_A_Goddamn_Plan/pseuds/I_Have_A_Goddamn_Plan). 



Micah didn’t know anymore how much time had passed since all of a sudden he was found out to be a traitor, just because of his own carelessness. Everything had happened so fast since then. Dutch had held up this Pinkerton business card like a trophy, like he had waited for this the entire time he had allowed Micah to whisper in his ear. After showing it to everyone in camp and heating up everyone’s mood Dutch had ordered Arthur to gag the traitor and bind him on a tree like they had done it to the O’Driscoll weeks ago. Then much to Micah’s relief, they had left him alone with his own thoughts for a while. He still remembered the first night in captivity, even if it felt like it was an eternity away now. He had tried to figure out what had happened to him, stubbornly thinking it was only a bad joke of fate and he could lie his way out of this in the morning when they would ask for an explanation. A simple card didn’t prove anything after all. 

All these thoughts now seemed to be the ones of a stranger, the whole person he had been seemed strange to him, as if his life before had been nothing but a dream he had woken up from and now he tried to remember how it had felt like to live in it. The dream had ended when the morning came and no one had asked any questions. Dutch had approached Micah, who was staring at him in disbelief, just to inform him that he would be tortured in the most vulgar ways possible. He believed that right after, he had received a beating that made him black out. He wouldn’t count on it though. The memories of everything after the first night were blurry and the days had melted into each other. There were only a few things he could’ve spent these days with after all.

Sometimes he was allowed to sleep, but more often he fell unconscious when his exhausted body demanded it. The most recognizable times however where those he was awake and screaming in pain. Or whimpering. Or crying. Or all at once. Sometimes they wanted him to scream and punished him for being too quiet. He was horrified by the mere thought of having salt in his wounds again. But sometimes screaming earned him another beating instead. Whimpering did nothing but make them mad but he couldn’t quite abandon it. The strange Micah had tried to make them listen, so he could tell them a story that would safe his life and let him continue his strange plan. But later he only did it because he wanted them to stop. Crying was something he had started when he had realized they wouldn’t stop. He did all at once when he was helpless and didn’t know what to think.

After a while his only goal had become to obey. 

It wasn’t that he had been really good at it and he still thought that the rules were a bit vague but it was all he had. He was guilty after all. He had told Dutch everything when he had finally asked some periods of screaming and whimpering later. Now he knew what really happened in Blackwater and Micah had continued to meet the agents after that.

And because he couldn’t wipe out his guilt just like that he could at least prove Dutch that he had learned. There had barely been a time when he hadn’t earned himself some extra pain but he had hoped that Dutch would see his efforts and show mercy, just once. The way he looked up to his boss was different now. He was ashamed of being so weak, of screaming too loud, of blacking out so fast. That’s what Dutch had made fun of at first. He was ashamed of his own body that was cluttered with bruises and burning marks and dripping with his own blood, sweat and tears. Every time Dutch spoke to him his face felt burning hot. It didn’t happen only with Dutch, but the boss was the one who gave him the most words. 

But even this life was over now.

Now Micah was alone in another night again, left to think about what just had happened. The last words he had received from Dutch before nightfall have been vague again, but what he could make out of them was that he wouldn’t live much longer. Dutch couldn’t spare him, he was about to deliver him back to the Pinkerton Agency and he was sure he would talk if he was alive. So all his efforts to please Dutch had been to no avail. All these days he had wished to see something else in Dutch’s eyes than hate, disgust or mockery, to hear his voice in another way than just scolding or laughing at him and finally, to feel Dutch’s hands on him without causing pain, to gain himself a gentle touch for once, all of this was wasted, and it almost hurt more than the beatings or whippings.

He was kneeling in the dark, trembling from cold and fear, bowing his head and crying as quietly as possible. The past Micah would most likely have started to scream and beg and would’ve tried to free himself in panic, the new one instead was afraid to make a move or sound that could make everything worse. Dutch had made clear he wouldn’t tolerate protests. Tonight however Micah was unsure if he should obey or not. He didn’t want to die. But there was no one who would listen to him anyway.

The night guard was standing far away from him and held a rifle. Micah didn’t want to get hit by it’s butt again and he knew it would be the only thing he would receive from the guard if he begged him for help.

As much as he tried to find a way out of the fate he feared so much he couldn’t come up with any. He had never seriously prayed in his life, for anything. He thought that what they had told him in church didn’t match with the world outside and he himself had done enough to prove them wrong. But he was begging internally, if he could come out of this alive he wouldn’t betray again. He would only run away, as far as possible and hope he would never meet Dutch’s gang or the Pinkertons again and that everyone would forget that this ever happened. And if he died, he wished he could explain someone what he really felt before it was over.

If only there was someone who would listen.

It was that moment when he heard the swish of grass and saw a shadowy figure passing by with a stoop. That could only be one. Their newest member was still shaky and overly careful around camp to not make anyone angry at him. Not that it worked out too good. He didn’t really belong to them yet, nobody really talked to him except for dropping remarks about his dubious loyalty. He was more like an outsider on sufferance, sneaking around them and trying not to attract any attention. When spirits were high and they gathered around the campfire at night, singing and drinking and telling stories, he was absent, watching them from far away with a longing gaze, before he eventually gave up and went back to the horses, his only friends. They appreciated his presence much more, nudged him with their snouts when he brushed and fed them. Even Baylock liked him and he was really picky. 

The moment Dutch had announced that there was a rat in camp the boy had stopped dead in his tracks and stared at his new boss with pleading eyes. It was seconds later that he realized it wasn’t meant for him for a change and he had never felt so relieved before. Instead, they had bound Micah, the guy nobody had liked anyway, on the very same tree the boy had avoided since he was free to go wherever he wanted. Every time Micah had received a piece of his punishment the former O’Driscoll was absent too. It didn’t affect him after all, being not a real member of the gang that had endured all the torments of the Blackwater disaster. He could’ve set an example of his loyalty though, but he didn’t feel like it. 

Especially not when he saw Bill heating up a fire poker that make him seek shelter by the horses again. He wasn’t a part of this, like he was always on his own when the others had fun. There’ve only been these small moments when he had shooed around camp because he couldn’t stand by the horses all day and somehow passed by the tree he hated, when he couldn’t prevent his eyes from seeking the traitor, even for a second. 

The boy gave Micah a glimpse that somehow seemed to him to be more than just pure horror or disgust. It could have been also just the imagination of his desperate brain of course. He remembered that the boy had said once that the O’Driscolls and the Van der Linde gang weren’t so different. How hilarious that had been for everyone back then. The boy himself however had been serious about it and he never announced if he had changed that opinion. Nobody had asked anyway.

Now it wasn’t the first night he didn’t find any sleep and came out of his hiding spot to fetch a drink or two on the quiet. He so much needed some burning liquid in his stomach to soothe his nervous brain that didn’t stop thinking about his whole messed up life and to finally get some comforting sleep. But it was only this night when the captured rat Micah was watching him while kneeling on the ground he was supposed to spend the rest of his short life on. It was also probably for the last time the rat saw anyone before daylight would come to announce his death.

As he saw the boy sneaking around the camp he couldn’t help but make a noise.

The boy jumped at the sound as if he was being caught stealing booze from someone furious. He span around, his widened eyes glowing in the moonlight, until his gaze fell on Micah in the grass. His shoulders relaxed a little at that, but he was still trembling from the shock when he carefully approached him.

„Was that you?“, he whispered qualmishly.  
Micah nodded and made another muffled noise, quieter this time. The boy winced again and looked around, nervously.

It was the first time they started a conversation after Micah was found out guilty, even if it was quite one-sided. The ones before hadn’t been pleasant, mostly because they contended nothing but threats from Micah and the boy’s whimpers. The boy had been glad at first when all the hate from the camp members fell on the right person for once but looking at the man later, kneeling in the grass and covered in filth he noticed he didn’t quite get much joy out of this. He had simply avoided the traitor instead, hid in his corner and waited until it would finally be over. He didn’t want to talk to him. He didn’t know what to say. But he had to say something now, or else there would be another reason for the others to scowl at him, or even punish him. 

And he feared their punishments.

„Would you please be quiet?“, he asked politely instead of scowling at the man for ruining his night. „I don’t need anyone to see me now…“, he said in all honesty, pleading even at the roped man on the ground, wishing he hadn’t decided to go for a drink tonight and avoided this conversation. He didn’t want to talk at all.

Micah instead had his last chance to talk. He didn’t find any good words either. He only wished there was something he could say to make his life worth something. Thinking about what he had said to the boy in his past life only made him more desperate. He wished now that he had shut his damn mouth at least sometimes, giving the boy a break and everyone else, didn’t act so proud while he had been actually at everyones mercy.  
He could only promise not to talk, but why should the boy believe him? 

Anyway, he made more muffled noises and begged the boy to let him speak.  
The boy gave a small whimper when the noise didn’t stop and looked around the camp again, anxiously thinking of a way to quieten the captive.

Then he held up the bottle he had taken from the supplies wagon. „Is it because of this?“, he asked hopefully. „You…you want some too?“ He knew they didn’t feed the rat very often, so he could be thirsty.  
Micah nodded, lied in that case. It left a sore feeling in his stomach but if he could make the boy open the gag by lying he had to do it.  
The boy winded but gave in.  
„Alright“, he stuttered. „But…be quiet, ok?“  
Another nod, another lie.  
The former O’Driscoll shyly leaned forward to fiddle with the tight knot in the gag and already regretted his decision.  
The first thing the other man did though was staring at him, silently.

For a moment Micah was stunned that it had actually worked, that someone had shown mercy and freed his tongue after such a long time. He watched the boy - what was his name even? - pouring whisky in a mug as if they were up for a chat. But when he was ready filling the mug and about to shove it into his mouth he mumbled out some words. The sound of his rasping voice made the boy almost spill the drink. He waved his hands around in panic.

„No, no, no, you promised,“ he stuttered.  
„Please,“ Micah repeated himself. He whispered to the boy as quietly as possible.  
„They will kill me tomorrow…,“ he pleaded. His once deep and snarky voice was high pitched in panic, he didn’t recognize it himself.  
„Dutch told me…“  
The boy shook his head, his hands cramping on the mug.  
„Nothing I can do about it,“ he hissed, sounding more harsh than he wanted.  
„I won’t tell anyone where the camp is, just let me go…“, Micah begged. He wished he wouldn’t sound so incredibly lame.  
The boy continued shaking, his whole body was trembling.  
„No, no…why would I do that?“  
„I promise I won’t be a bother again. Please…save me…“ Micah’s voice got husky and he bowed his head as a submissive gesture because he was already on his knees.

„I…can’t.“ The former O’Driscoll now sounded like he was apologizing.  
„I’m already on Dutch’s mercy. If I free you, he would do the same to me, “ he explained and nervously looked around again. „If anyone sees this…“ he mumbled more to himself.  
„It won’t take long. Just…cut the ropes and I’m gone…Hey, we could make this look like I attacked you…like I still had a knife or something. I’ll rope you and in the morning you tell them a story,“ Micah explained eagerly. It felt unreal to make out a plan again with someone who had doubts. He remembered that was something he had been good at and he concentrated all his hope on that.  
The boy ran his hand through his hair, thinking intensely.  
„And what should I tell them? I’m not as good in lying as you…“ he shook his head again.  
Micah felt his heart beat against his chest at the fact that the boy was already bargaining.  
„Just…tell them I called you like I did and then attacked you by surprise. The nearer it is to the truth the easer it is…“ . Micah wondered if anything could make this boy lie. He was so innocent, except with alcohol.

The boy was now drinking from the mug instead, making large gulps. It had easily been more than a double whiskey. He exhaled then, closed his eyes and let the soothing fire burn in his needy stomach.  
Then he opened his eyes again and stated: „No, I don’t like this.“  
Then he hold up the mug.  
„You want some now or not?“, he asked more harshly, now it was intended.  
Micah spoke it out before he could bite his tongue. „Please, you’ve been in this situation too.“  
The boy angrily shoved it off and put the mug down.  
„Fine, have a good night then.“

He took the piece of cloth that had been a gag and folded it again, trying to ignore that Micah had started to cry again. For a while there was nothing to hear but unbridled sobbing and quiet whining. Micah had ruined his last chance. He had even dared to talk someone into a flawed plan again. As if Dutch didn’t discipline him enough.  
„Please,“ he tried again, the tears now almost choking his words.  
„I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m sorry.“  
Micah’s mind was spinning, memories of his whole lifetime already passing by before his eyes. If only there was something he could say.  
„I can’t trust you“, the boy whispered the truth, helplessly holding the cloth he had stopped folding.  
More tears came, the snot already dripping from his nose.  
„I’m begging you,“ he stuttered in despair. He was out of words. If there were any words that could save him he was unable to find them. It was over. „I’ll do everything…please have mercy…“ 

The former O’Driscoll stared at him, still holding the gag up with shivering hands. He felt a decision form into his mind that was so heavy it fell on his chest like a rock. He knew he would regret this. But thinking twice he figured that there was nothing left to do he would not regret. 

He dropped the gag and shooed to the supples wagon where the cook’s knives were kept. He chose one of them randomly that appeared to be big and sharp enough and shooed back while a voice in his head was screaming at him about what the fuck he was doing. It screamed betrayal, ranted about rats freeing each other and made the feel of guilt burn hot in his chest. Tortured by this, he sneaked towards Micah who had stopped crying and stared at him now with pleading eyes, a trace of surprise and hope in his glare. The boy stood there, felt the knife in his hands and wondered if he could do something else instead as an act of mercy. It was most likely that Dutch wouldn’t grant Micah a quick and painless death. Dutch would be furious for sure, but not that much. He moved the knife near Micah’s throat and held it there for a while. The man jerked back, away from the sharp blade that could easily cut his skin.  
„What are you doing?“, he whispered in horror. „No…“ 

The boy felt now that this was not what he wanted.  
He kneeled down and reached for the rope that held Micah’s arms and legs crossways behind the tree. He had to come very close to the other man, soon he could feel the warmth that radiated from him on his own skin. The smell of sweat and blood nearly choked him as he leaned closer and he held his breath as long as he could. Kneeling in the grass and fiddling with the rope he could hear nothing but their heartbeats pounding at each other, as if they had a contest about who could beat louder. 

The knot however was stubborn and the boy’s despair grew with every second he was fighting with it.

The moment it finally gave in a large weight fell of the boy’s stomach. He realized shortly after that it had made space for other feelings. He shied away from the sweating, bleeding and trembling man on the ground and stared at his work, horrified.

The man stood up, slowly, because everything in his body ached. His legs were numb from kneeling for days, soon feeling like pins and needles and his stomach cramped as a result of his effort to stand up. Luckily he could pull himself up to that tree he had been bound on. Gasping and shaking, he still somehow gave the boy a look that caused him to wide his eyes in fear and stumble backwards.

„What have I done,“ the boy whimpered and held his hands up, baring the knife. „Now you’ll kill them all.“ Now he almost shouted, ready to attack in despair. Micah instead had nothing by his side except the fact that the former O’Driscoll had still qualms. Before he could cut him with the blade Micah knocked him off his feet with his bare hands. He didn’t need much power for this, he only had to hit the right spot that made sure he wouldn’t wake up very soon. He had always liked that trick. Without thinking, he caught the unconscious body like he used to do it when he wanted to act quietly. But as the body fell heavy on him he hissed in pain, his muscles protested and he had to put the body down more rudely than he had intended. Shocked by his own weakness and heavily gasping for air, he leaned at the tree and stared at the boy who now laid in the grass, defenseless. 

Micah reflected on what just had happened between them and suddenly felt helpless. This person was the only one who had shown mercy, despite every doubt, despite every mean word he had received from Micah since he had been a part of the gang and despite the risk for his own existence. He had regretted this decision and maybe even tried to kill Micah, but still, he had saved him. Micah should do the same for him. But in this short moment, he had ruined it. 

Trembling, he slipped down the trunk and knelt beside the boy, his hands desperately clutching at the grass. For the first time he felt that he owed someone everything and for the first time he had nothing to give at all. He had always been so strong, so proud, because life had been easy when he had kept everything by himself. But now he couldn’t even do the simplest thing. 

Micah grabbed the boy’s coat again, trying to move him further, out of this lion’s den where his life was at stake but his sour muscles didn’t allow it. All he could do was binding him to the tree that stood just beside him, as he had promised. Moving the boy’s limbs already brought him to his limits. For a moment he wondered if he should bruise him to make the attack look more convincing. But as he picked the knife from the ground with trembling hands he knew he couldn’t do it. He hoped that it would work out but even his spinning mind was able to tell him that his plan had a whole lot of flaws. He had to go though, or would die by daylight and he didn’t even know if he could make it. Sobbing, Micah leaned forward to the poor boy, putting his hands on his shoulders and in the heat of the moment he placed a gentle kiss on his forehead.

„Thank you.“ 

The words still felt strange in his mouth. He pulled himself up again and picked up the bottle. He was surprised by himself that he took the risk of being caught by bringing it back to the wagon but he didn’t want to leave any sign of the boy’s misbehavior.

He moved slowly but at least he was quiet enough. Being on his own again, he didn’t think too much anymore. Sneaking around camps for stealing was something he was used to and he could hold onto right now so the panic wouldn’t take over him. He kept the knife as well. His guns were lost after all. He had no time to look for them and no clue where to start. When he finally approached the horses he found Baylock staring at him, ears erected with excitement and also curiosity. Micah was relieved to see that they had kept the stallion and didn’t punish him for the flaws of his owner. At least one of them was healthy and strong now since they had to go a long way. But first he had to deal with the night guard with the fatal gun.

To get rid of him he tried the oldest trick his grandpa had told him when he was young. It was nothing but throwing rocks as a disturbance. Bill fell for it at first try, shortly after he fell on the ground unconscious. Micah left him there, alive. He was about to escape and be gone for good, his mind started to spin again and he almost panicked, hearing noises behind him as if someone was following him. He didn’t think about revenge. Baylock nudged him when Micah nervously untied him from the hitch rack. Without checking what was left in his saddlebags he mounted the horse and rode off, straight into the night. He didn’t know where to go, he only knew it had to be far away.


	2. Chapter 2

Micah rode as fast as he could that night, as if the devil himself was after him. Admittedly, this was near the truth. All the time he had the feeling that somebody was following him but he just didn’t have the time to make a halt and look around. Not that he could see much anyway. He had to put all his trust in the horse since the animal was the one with the better eyes at night. Micah mostly saw shadows appear in the darkness that startled him but he ignored them as good as he could. He told himself that as long as Baylock didn’t shy away from something, no one was there. Otherwise he could seek comfort in the fact that this part of the country was familiar to him to a certain degree.

The time passed while he pushed himself forward, climbed stony hills, almost slid down deep slopes and avoided trees he had almost hit. Eventually, when he got tired of this, Micah unwillingly admitted he needed a rest. His body and his horse already protested but he didn’t feel comfortable enough to make a pause. He had never pushed himself that far, but he had also never made such a stupid mistake that had ruined everything he had built up for months. It was only when he made out a possible hiding spot that he gave up to his body’s demands and allowed Baylock to slow down. The horse obeyed with relief and slowly entered a deep forest of what Micah knew did grow around some rocks.

It was even darker in there, the wan moonlight was shining through the canopy of leaves wich moved in the wind. It created even more blurry images of figures in the darkness. Baylock carefully stepped over stones and stumps and his slow proceeding made Micah very anxious. Even if it was dead silent, Micah harshly stopped his horse as he thought he had heard something. The longer he stared into the darkness he more believed it had been the voice of his tormenter calling out for him. His anxious mind already pictured what Dutch would do to him if he would find him here and a cold shiver ran down his spine. He ducked reflexively, laid down on his horse’s back and waited in deep silence. His mind spun, made him wish he had taken another horse wich they wouldn’t easily recognize as his own, especially one that wasn’t breathing so loud. It made him wish he had taken another route, not that obvious hiding spot Dutch could know about, with he didn’t have to flee in the first place. He had so many wishes until suddenly a loud eerie noise disturbed him.

He jumped and almost slid from the horse to hide under it. He swore to himself as he noticed it was just an owl. He was now glad that no one was there to watch him making a fool of himself. The heat in his face told him that it was shining red again, just like it did when he was with Dutch. But he didn’t want to think about Dutch anymore. He gathered all the courage that was left inside him wich wasn’t too much to be honest and moved on to where he presumed the certain rock was. He hadn’t been there for a while but he assured himself that a rock won’t run away. Of course not. He shook his head. But considering his luck in the last days he wouldn’t be surprised if even nature would fuck him up.

But against all odds it was still there. Baylock made his way upward, becoming more and more eager to reach their destination. It was a cave in the rock that should hide them for long enough until they found something better. The mere sight of the narrow cave entrance caused all the adrenaline that had held Micah upright to leave his body. He clumsily slid from the horse and his feet hit the hard ground and barely held his weight. 

He was so tired. 

His fresh wounds, the results of his latest misbehavior, were burning hot on his skin and his head pounded from his spinning mind. He could only crawl into the cave, moving along the walls until he thought it was enough. Then he slumped on the ground, unable to move just another inch. He didn’t have many thoughts anymore, he only wanted to sleep. He laid there, listening to his own stuttering breath and his heartbeat pounding against his chest. Slowly, he took some deep breaths and eventually calmed down.

When he driftet off to sleep, the nightmares came. 

He dreamed to be back by that tree, kneeling on the ground again and being unable to move. The gang was gathering around him, laughing and spitting on him and enjoying this very much. Micah wasn’t surprised at this he had expected Dutch to find him anyway, but that didn’t make him any less desperate. He tried to jerk away from the gang even though he knew they didn’t like that. He closed his eyes to escape the sight but somehow he couldn’t blank out his vision. Someone was holding his head upright, gripping his hair and when Micah attempted to turn his head, he pulled at it so hard he made Micah’s eyes water. He blinked the tears away in fear and hoped no one saw them. Dutch didn’t like him crying. 

Gazing around the group he noticed a pair of worried eyes watching him from a distance. Micah guessed it was that boy who’s name he had forgotten, the one who didn’t really belong in here. He sometimes passed by and gave him that weird look, but he never hurt him. The eyes vanished when suddenly the group split and made place for the man Micah feared the most. 

Trapped like he was he could only watch the menacing figure approach him. Dutch was gorgeous as always, his spurs and golden chains were clinking ominously and the brocade cloth of his vest glimmered in the sunlight and dazzled Micah. Dutch contorted his impressive features with a sneer, exposing his white teeth. He planted himself in front of him, looking even taller than he was in the first place. He crossed his arms and stared down on Micah what made him feel very uncomfortable.  
When he finally granted him some words, his deep voice took on a threatening tone.

„You tried to run from me, boy?“

Micah winced at that, he shook his dead as much as he could and wanted answer but he found out that he was gagged again and his voice hardly made it through the tight cloth.  
„Was about to meet your friend Milton?“, Dutch went on, ignoring his prisoner’s efforts. Micah now struggled even more, not caring about how much hair he would tear out from vigorously shaking his head.

„No?“, Dutch repeated him playfully and cocked his head to the side, looking at him with curious brown eyes. Micah remembered exactly how they looked like, every single strand of color. He used to admire them a lot. Now, he usually stared into them begging Dutch to understand, but mostly he didn’t. 

„I think you was…“ his tormentor concluded, slightly nodding in agreement with himself. After months of studying his expressions Micah could read him good enough to see a decision forming in his head and immediately knew it would be something unpleasant. To comfort himself, he attempted to breathe in Dutch’s scent he still liked since it reminded him of the old days when they’ve been so close. But he only got the stinging smell of ashes in his lungs and began to cough. 

Chuckling, Dutch came closer and kneeled before Micah, his face got very close to him, staring him down. Micah was now torn between the urge to shrink away from his tormentor and the desire to get even closer so he could feel his skin on his own. He would even beg him to beat him again, just to feel his hands on him. Dutch had found out soon how Micah’s body reacted to pain when he didn’t go too far and he liked to play with it, especially since Micah was so ashamed of it when it happened.

„You want me to hurt you, boy?“ Micah heard Dutch ask with a gentle voice that promised nothing but agony. Micah only stared back helplessly, not daring to chose between „yes“ or „no“. He assumed Dutch wanted him to be quiet anyway so he wouldn’t do anything wrong at least. After a moment of silence Dutch backed away a little, lifted his right hand and brought it down on Micah’s face, almost gently, allowing him to feel his skin on his own for a second. Micah was sure it had left a bright red mark on his cheek, considering how much it stung.

„You like that?“, Dutch yelled now and slapped him harder with the other hand. Then he clenched his fist and slammed it into Micah’s nose. 

His vision blurred from tears and he smelled his own blood now too. It joined the scent of burning ashes and almost made him throw up. His whole face was pounding but actually, it wasn’t too bad. For a short moment, he enjoyed how the pain sent shivers all over his body and a pulse ran straight down between his legs. Dutch had done good. He groaned as he gave in and hardened like a rock, pressing against the tight cloth of his jeans he knew Dutch wouldn’t open for him, no matte how much it hurt.

With pleasure, Dutch watched Micah’s body beg for more. When he had enough, he laughed triumphantly and stood up. „I knew it,“ he sneered and held up his hands like in defeat. „You leave me no choice,“ he said mockingly and turned around to order somebody to come over with a hand sign.

Still a bit delirious, Micah saw another figure step towards him. He needed some seconds to recognize it as Bill Williamson, holding an iron that was glowing white and hissing horribly. Micah now sobered quickly, although it wouldn’t save him. He let all his caution go and cried out, tugging heavily at the ropes, but to no avail. No matter what he did, he had to go through this again.  
„Bill, will you kindly burn the rest of my name on him,“ Dutch asked politely and pointed at Micah. „He likes that.“

The closer the iron came to him, the more Micah remembered the searing pain it would leave on his chest. He didn’t want any of this. The smell of burning flesh already filled the air, his screams ringed in his ears. He pressed down his eyelids and finally, it worked. The world went black, and the iron, Dutch and the gang vanished.

 

The next thing he felt was something cold and soft poking his left cheek. Micah yelped and struggled to fight it away, until that thing snorted. When he opened his eyes he looked straight into the dark ones of Baylock. He pulled his head around in confusion, wondering where Dutch was and why the pain was gone all of a sudden. He was sure he had a new letter on his chest. Micah reached for it, carefully palpating his skin underneath the sweat soaked shirt and found nothing but old scars.  
That made him remember he was free. In his memories he saw the young O’Driscoll with a knife, cutting the ropes. Micah searched his belt for the knife that he kept and it was still there. He could see his own reflection in the blade. At least he was left to believe that this sorry sight with the bruised face, fresh scars and traces of tears, sweat and blood was his own. 

The boy. The boy had saved him.

He wasn’t sure if he could consider himself a lucky bastard though. Now he was on his own, badly injured and almost unarmed. He didn’t even know if he had any supplies. When he searched the saddlebags and his hands only reached into empty pockets he knew that Dutch had taken care of this. He was smart after all, didn’t leave anything to chance. Micah fell back on his knees, grabbing his hair and fighting against a real anxiety attack. He told himself he had to move on, he couldn’t sit around an mourn now. He called himself a survivor after all, so it had to work without Dutch, even though his life before Dutch seemed so far away now. 

His stomach began to cramp and reminded him that he was still hungry as hell. His mouth was dry too and he had to wash his wounds or else he would get infected. There was so much to do. Otherwise he could’ve died just as well and saved the trouble. So he pulled himself together and carried on.The forest greeted him with lush green as he descended the shallow rock on horseback. 

Finding water turned out to be surprisingly easy. Just like the cave, Micah remembered where he had found a river the last time he had been here and followed the track. Soon he heard the splash of water from the distance and had to keep Baylock from dashing right towards it. Even at the shore he was still careful. There could always be someone around who could recognize him. Some of the gang members really got about, especially Arthur, who was the second worst case. 

As soon as his hands touched the cool water, not even his paranoia could keep him from drinking so much he almost threw up. Baylock drank only as much as what was natural for him. Micah was still glad that at least one of them wasn’t starving and kept his strength.  
When he had taken care of his newest wounds he crouched away from the shore and let himself fall back in the bright green grass. He relaxed for a while and did nothing but breathing deeply. He would lie there forever, he was still tired and had felt his hands tremble when he had held the reigns. His stomach didn’t leave him alone though. It demanded food and Micah did better get up and find some before he became too tired to hunt.

This part was much more difficult.

It wasn’t impossible to hunt with only a knife, of course, but he had to be much more patient to succeed and he lacked that right now. He needed to find the right spot and watch out for small animals and hope his growling stomach won’t alarm them beforehand. Micah had never been good at this and the more tired he got the clumsier he got too. Whenever he found something edible he took it, unfortunately it was only berries and mushrooms wich didn’t sate. He spent hours walking and sitting around, waiting for the right moment. It was frustrating.

If only he wasn’t too afraid to seek for the next town. He didn’t remember how far it was but he could’ve gone. He wanted to hide his face at all costs though. He was wanted in Strawberry, wanted by Dutch and he remembered Trelawny was always around, showing up where he was the least suspected. There were many others too who still had a bone to pick with him. He didn’t want to risk his freedom just yet, with only a knife in his hand and nothing in his stomach. But when it was around afternoon, he cursed himself for this choice.

Exhausted, he sat down on a stump and watched Baylock feast happily on some lush grass and got very angry. It was like the damn nag watched him die and enjoyed it. He stood up and pulled at his reigns, yanked the horses’ head up and glared right into his eyes. He threatened him, he would eat him instead, he had heard horses were actually delicious. But before he could do something he would regret he heard a voice again and froze.

It was someone talking, a male voice. It could be Dutch. He was talking to someone or even much more than only one. Micah slowly retreated, but before the panic could take over him again he heard a soft female voice speaking in a jolly tone, then chuckling. She didn’t sound like Sadie, or anyone who was up to hunt him. The voices where definitely real, but harmless. It was actually a good opportunity as well…

He sneaked to where the voices came from, keeping behind bushes and trees, in case he had fooled himself again and there was actually danger. He also wanted to attack them by surprise if not. Hunting humans was much easier for him after all. From a distance he saw them sitting on a blanket they had spread out on the ground. They leaned into each other and seemed to whisper sweet nothings into each other’s ears. It was a young couple. Just two idiots unaware of the danger around them. And much better, they had food with them, stashed in a basked that laid on the ground just before them. Now the knife would really come in handy.  
Stumbling forward, he fell into that sweet little scene and made the two back away from each other. The girl gave a little cry and slapped her hand over her mouth. The boy eyed him suspiciously.  
„Can I help you, Mr…“

Without wasting any time, Micah shoved him his knife.  
„Yup, you can,“ Micah answered,“give me all you got and I’ll spare your lives.“

These simple words set them in motion. Considering his trembling hands Micah was glad now that he only had a knife, he wouldn’t be able to point a gun at anything at all. The pair didn’t notice it thought, they only heard that he meant business.  
„Oh my god, Robert, do something,“ the girl shouted and hid behind her lover.  
„There’s no need for violence, sir“, the boy tried, holding up his hands in defeat.  
Micah snorted.  
„It’s simple. Just do as I say. Or better, leave.“  
„I think he’s drunk,“ the girl whispered to Robert loud enough for Micah to hear it.  
„If you’re hungry, we can share,“ the boy tried again.

What a stubborn brat, Micah thought. His frustration rose even more. Why did they still sit there and blather bullshit instead of running for their lives? Why didn’t this work? Why did nothing work according to plan anymore?  
„You shitting me boy?“, he yelled at them. „Want me to kill you both?“  
He was so tired he struggled to stand upright.  
But it seemed to work now.  
The girl took her lover’s arm and begged „We should go…“  
What Micah didn’t notice was that she calmed down again.  
Robert’s features hardened and his tone was even ironic as he answered: „I’m very sorry sir, but we can’t do as you please.“  
From behind him Micah heard another male voice say: „Good night.“  
Then the world went black.


	3. Chapter 3

Micah’s head pounded horribly and the constant jolting of the ground he was laying on only made it worse. He gave out a loud groan as he slowly woke up from his blackout and tried to find back his memories. As he tried to move his limbs he was puzzled at the fact that he couldn’t. He felt ropes on his wrists and ankles and suddenly the panic kicked back in. He remembered this way too good.  
„D…Dutch?“ he whimpered. His voice was mostly swallowed by the loud clopping of the horse trot that had shaken him awake.  
„Did you say something?“, he heard the voice of his captor snap at him. He wasn’t Dutch but he could still have something to do with him.  
„What happened?“ Micah could only squeak, he wasn’t yet in control of his own voice.  
„I hit you on the head,“ the other man snapped again. „I hope it hurts.“  
Micah thought about that for a while, but he couldn’t make something out of this.  
„W..why did you do that?“, he asked louder now, regaining a bit more courage. „and would you slow down that damn nag because it really fucking hurts?“  
He got no answer, instead the horse made a large jump and a hard landing on the ground making Micah dash hardly against the horseback and pressing the air out of his lungs. He gave another loud groan. His old wounds pounded now too and his stomach was about to turn.  
„Like that?“, the captor asked mockingly.

Micah didn’t answer. He felt like he was disciplined again for bad behavior and that feeling was way too familiar. He wanted to behave now. He wouldn’t make the same mistakes again - but didn’t he already?  
„Hey, lost your tongue or something? Bit on it? I guess that’s what you get for robbing innocent people. Luckily I was around.“  
Now some blurred images found their way back to Micah’s mind. He remembered a forest, a cave, somewhere he thought he would be safe from the man who was haunting his dreams. And the desperate try to hunt that finally led to that damn pair of idiots with their damn picnic they laid out like bait. Where did the other guy even come from? He now felt that he was still hungry as hell.  
„Listen, friend,“ he tried in his soothing voice he had used on Dutch so often.  
„I didn’t mean to hurt them. I was starving for days and way too weak to give them a scratch. Just drop me off in a town and let’s forget about all this.“  
The other man sneered.  
„Sure - huh- you think I’m stupid? First, if your were a decent guy you would’ve asked them for food instead of pulling out a knife at them - and second, when I drop you off in town, who you’re gonna rob there? No, no, you’re coming with me, maybe the sheriff missed you already and grants me with a little reward, what do you think?“  
Micah gulped, fighting down the next panic attack that was just about to break out.  
„I could’ve asked them alright“, he admitted „But I wasn’t in a state to bargain, I was starving - and I still am!“  
„Aw, you poor thing - how about working for food? You know what work is, right?“  
„Course I do!“, he snarled. That damn brat! of all the idiots he could’ve run into he must’ve met the most stubborn!  
„I just happened to be stuck it the fucking woods!“  
The other man was unimpressed.  
„You had a horse.“  
„Baylock! You left him there?“  
„He’ll be alright, but you won’t,“ the captor sneered.  
„You have no heart!“  
The other man laughed again. „Not at all. Can’t wait to finally get rid of you scumbag. I’m glad we’re almost there.“

Micah fell silent again and closed his eyes. But this wasn’t another nightmare, it was real. He escaped Dutch, put the O’Driscoll boy in danger just to get caught again and brought to jail. And this time, no Arthur would come to break him out. He could give himself a beating right now. If they were heading to Strawberry, it would be all over.  
„Where are we going?“, he dared to ask, his voice being a whimper again.  
His captor didn’t answer. Instead he slowed down the horse even though they were still out in the wild.  
„Hey!“ Micah urged him.  
„Shut up,“ the other man hissed quietly.  
Then he harshly turned the horse around. „Shit, they heard you.“  
He spurred his horse and galloped back in the other direction, making his captive shout out in pain.  
Micah feared he could fall from the beast and get kicked to death by it’s fast moving hooves before the rider could notice.  
But when he heard gunshots right behind him he forgot about those things and just begged the damn nag to run faster.

Shortly after he felt the ropes lose already. He also felt something cold and sharp on his skin.  
„What are you doing?“, he screamed at his captor who had pulled out a knife and was clumsily cutting the ropes while trying to focus on where he was going.  
„I’m too slow with your fat ass on my back. I let them have you, it’s just as good as hanging.  
Farewell, ‚friend‘!“  
„No!“, was the only word Micah could scream when he fell hard on the ground and almost blacked out. The mere horror kept him awake, he needed to escape but all he could manage was slowly crawling in the dirt. His whole body ached and maybe even some bones were broken. When he heard the chasers approach he curled up in a ball, praying that they won’t notice him.  
Shivering and sweating, he heard them slow down and finally stop near to him.  
„No…“, he whispered to himself.

„Aw, now look who’s abandoned.“ someone sneered at him.  
The others quickly gathered around their prey, all very amused and proud of themselves.  
„That’s the lousiest catch we ever had.“ Someone laughed.  
„Is he even alive?“, another one kicked him in the side to turn him around. Micah moaned in pain as he rolled around and stared into three grinning faces.  
„Damn, he looks awful. Someone beat him to a pulp.“  
„You think it was the kid?“ another man asked mockingly.  
A finger was pointed at Micah. „I think he knows.“  
Then he got kicked again. „Hey, I’m talking to you!“  
Micah desperately hissed at them. „What do you want?“  
That made the group sneer once more.  
„What do we want,“ one of them aped him.  
„This is O’Driscoll-country. Sad that there are still some idiots around who didn’t learn that yet.“  
„O’Driscoll…“  
Micah groaned and curled up again.  
The O’Driscolls looked at his sorry sight for while until one of them decided:  
„He’s useless. Let’s have some fun with him at least.“  
„What if he knows something?“, another voice said mockingly.  
„What?“  
„You know…something.“ It was said in a tone that send a cold shiver down Micah’s spine.  
„Yeah…let’s tie him up and ask him out.“

They grabbed their prey and dragged him to a nearby tree. That was actually hard work because Micah couldn’t carry his own weight. As he saw what was coming for him his tongue came loose.  
„No, not again,“ he begged at the O’Driscolls. Words just spilled out of his mouth.  
„I…I really know something,“ he blurted out.  
Two of them were already busy tying him up and is arms were scraped up by the rough bark of the tree.  
„Sure you do“, the third man said wryly as he untucked his belt in an ominous way. He then held it up close to Micah’s face and let it run through his fingers while grinning wildly. „We’ll find out about that.“  
„It’s true,“ Micah pleaded, eyes wide in horror, „ but I gotta talk to Colm.“  
The name of their boss actually had an impact on these men.  
They froze and eyed their prey doubtfully.  
The third man came closer, staring right into Micah’s bruised face.  
„Colm, eh?“, he snarled. „What are you, old friends?“  
The group sneered loudly but Micah insisted.  
„It’s really important. And useful.“  
The third O’Driscoll shook his head.  
„Everyone can claim that. Any proof that you’re not just a big waste of Colm’s time?“  
The man cocked his head and eyed Micah with curiosity.  
Micah who had struggled to stand upright all this time felt that last bit of his strength was worn out. His legs gave up and he couldn’t stand the pain any longer while tiny red dots were dancing in front of his eyes.  
„I was his…“, he managed to whisper and then he blacked out the second time this day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally a new chapter!  
> I guess my chapters will get shorter now but I'll update more frequently. I think that's a win. Who needs long ass chapters when they're up only every third month?  
> If you actually do, feel free to tell me in the comments ;D


	4. Chapter 4

The three O’Driscolls shared confused looks as they watched their prey black out. So much for having fun. Now they had to chose wether they delivered him to their boss or not. None of them was keen to feel Colm’s rage for wasting his precious time, but they also liked the idea of being rewarded for giving him useful information. So after a quick voting they decided to take the risk and carry the unconscious prey with them. Besides, maybe Colm was pleased to get a new toy to play with for a while after his former one was taken from him.

When Micah woke up again it felt like the worst deja-vu. His head was pounding even more and and his ears were ringing. He also felt pretty sick, not only from the jolting horseback but also from his oh so empty stomach. It was like he was trapped in an endless loop of pain. Micah only wanted this to end.  
He must’ve made a sound because the O’Driscolls noticed him waking up.  
„Wakey, wakey,“ one of them said way too loud for his poor ringing ears. „If you lied, now would be a good time to confess. We won’t bring to Colm and maybe we even grant you a painless death.“  
„It’s too late for that…“, Micah rasped too quietly for anyone to hear. His voice was weak and he was gasping for breath.  
„What?“  
„I didn’t lie“, Micah said instead in a louder voice. He couldn’t concentrate on anything anymore. He didn’t want Colm to see him like this but it was his only chance.  
His captors silenced for a while, but not long enough for him to recover from his pain. Soon, they annoyed him with another question.  
„So…what were you about to say before earlier?“  
„I don’t remember“, Micah muttered, eyes closed. The world was spinning in front of him and he didn’t want to entertain these idiots with throwing up.  
„You better remember it for Colm,“ the annoying voice warned him.  
„Just shut up!“, Micah finally snarled, internally begging for silence.  
„Whoa, there. Don’t make us change our minds. Could as well give you a good whipping before we deliver you.“  
Their prey sighted and didn’t answer. It was all too much. He had to think up something he could tell Colm but he wasn’t able to think with that headache - and the constant babbling of these idiots didn’t help.  
„Did you hear me?“, the voice bothered him again.  
„Yeah“, was the short answer.  
„You better apologize to my friend. He can get very mad you know?“ another voice scoffed at him.  
Instead they heard an annoyed sight of Micah.  
The horse stopped. 

„Alright“, the O’Driscoll said, annoyed as well. When he was just about to dismount Micah realized what he brought himself into again and finally made an effort to apologize.  
„No, no, no, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!“, he blurted out. „I didn’t know what I was saying!“  
The men snickered.  
„You can’t deal with Colm with that attitude you know,“ one of them advised like he was talking to a child.  
„I know, I’ll behave now“, Micah promised and wished he had done so already. Why was this so hard? And why couldn’t they just be quiet? It felt like it was all unfair.  
They moved on and finally stopped talking. Micah hoped their camp wasn’t far away. He fell in a light slumber before they finally reached their hiding spot. It was actually much more comfortable then Dutch’s. Their gang had occupied a wealthy farm that was still intact and had quite a big farmhouse. Outside they had lit a campfire where the tents were set up and Colm O’Driscoll sat there with his most trusted men, discussing something and not noticing the three members riding in. Someone by the stables saw them and asked them about their weird loot. Then he went to tell Colm.

„Be a good boy now,“ his captor advised as Micah was dragged off the horseback. Since he still couldn’t stand upright he ended up kneeling between two of the O’Driscolls.  
As their boss approached them with a stern look on his face, the men stiffened.  
„What’s so important to disturb me?“, he snarled.  
„We found someone who wants to talk to you,“ the bravest of them said.  
„Who?“, Colm asked impatiently and the men stepped aside to give way to Micah, who was still kneeling on the ground and bowed his head, with his dirty blonde hair hiding his bruised face. He really didn’t want Colm to see him like this.  
Colm eyed the shivering figure in dirty and ripped clothes.  
Micah just stared at the ground, paralyzed and unable to say a word, just pretending it was only a nightmare and it didn’t really happen right now. Like he could close his eyes and and wake up back in Dutch’s Camp, with him being still his new favorite son. But unfortunately Colm had to tear him out of his hopeful dreams.  
„Is this a joke?“, he asked quietly.  
The others shook their heads and denied eagerly.  
„Just say something, idiot“, one of them kicked Micah and he landed on his hands. He clenched his teeth to suppress an outcry. Colm stepped towards him, grabbed his hair and pulled his head up to look him in the eyes. Micah groaned and stared right into this familiar face.  
„Hello Colm,“ he greeted him with his raspy voice, „long time no see…“  
The other man glanced at his features, observing the bruises and cuts on them and searching for something familiar. No one dared to speak as the two men stared at each other in silence.  
Then their boss finally spoke.  
„Micah?“, he asked in disbelief.  
The other man sighted with relief and tried a smile.  
„Did I change that much?“ He even managed to sound a bit cheeky.  
Colm grimaced at that. „You look awful…“, he stated.

His hand now ran over Micah’s face, palpating the scars. The other hand held up his chin instead of pulling at his scalp. He was very cautious all of a sudden.  
„Who did that to you?“, he asked almost pitifully.  
„Was it them?“, he added, gesturing to the three men who jumped a little at that, surprised how things turned out.  
„No…“ Micah said an shook his head a bit, not too much to allow Colm to keep stroking his bruised skin. He hadn’t felt such a gentle touch in a very long time. It felt so good he was about to beg Colm to go on forever.  
„I got in a fight,“ he said instead, as if it wasn’t even worth mentioning.  
„You know me.“ He even shrugged, like the good liar he had always been. He was so proud of himself right now.  
Colm granted him his silent wish and continued to stroke his skin with his thumb while a faint smile flickered across his face.  
„Still the same troublemaker, are you?“  
He gently petted his hair that was still soiled with blood and dirt and put some loose hair strands back behind his ear, all slowly and careful. His men stared fascinated at the scene that unfolded right in front of them.  
Micah closed his eyes with relish. For once he didn’t have to worry that the hand that touched him so mildly would suddenly slap hard over his face. This was not Dutch.

„Colm“, he said in a soft, submissive voice.  
„Yes, my boy?“, the other man answered tenderly.  
„I’m injured and hungry…“, he sighted, „please help me.“  
Micah looked at Colm with the most pleading look he could manage.  
The other man smiled, sneered a little and took his time before he answered.  
Finally he nodded, and Micah felt so incredibly relieved he relaxed and almost blacked out again.  
„You will wash yourself first“, Colm demanded, „once you are in a presentable state you’re allowed to come back to me.“ He eyed him now with a more hungry look and gently let go of his chin.  
Micah bowed his head again, almost touching the ground, and hid a triumphant smile behind his hair.  
„Yes, Colm.“


	5. Chapter 5

Micah stood next to the bathtub filled with hot water that was prepared for him like he was some very important guest. He was standing in the bathroom of the farmhouse but couldn’t enjoy the luxury that was given to him so generously because he needed to peel himself out of his ripped clothes first. Some of the wounds he had washed in the river were torn open again and the blood that had already dried made the cloth cling on his skin. It was a relief though to finally get rid of the soaking lumps he had worn since Dutch had given him his very special punishment. He hadn’t observed his own wounds closely since then, only hurried to wash most of the dirt away and didn’t dare to look at what Dutch had made out of him. 

But now Micah had to find out what a sorry sight he really was. The more naked skin he revealed, the more scars became visible and he had to clench his teeth again so he wouldn’t whimper. He could recall almost every single wound he got from Dutch and not only him but also the other gang members who had joined the special treatment. The mere sight of his left arm made him shudder and as he carefully palpated the scars he suddenly winced. It was like he felt the whiplashes again wich had ripped his skin open. He could still hear the cracks, together with the sound of the gang members laughing and Dutch’s voice - this merciless, cold voice that once had been so warm and caring towards him, rising upon the laughter. As the images started to drown him Micah wildly shook his head to banish them from his mind. His whole body was shaking now and he covered his face with his hands. For a while he stood there, rubbing his forehead until the voices finally vanished. But it wasn’t over yet. He still had to overcome one big obstacle, his worst punishment of them all. 

He took a deep breath and opened his eyes again. His gaze wandered down his chest that was soiled with new blood and sweat. He stopped when his gaze fell on multiple dark red lines on his burning skin wich were torn open at some points. There wouldn’t be anything noticeable about them if they wouldn’t scream a name he would never forget his whole lifetime. DUTCH.  
The letters even burned in his eyes as he stared at them until he figured he had held his breath all the time. Gasping for air he shut his eyes again and desperately grabbed his hair. Micah didn’t dare to touch the scars, he was already fighting off the memories of the day he had been marked for life. Sweating and reeling, he leaned forward and clutched at the edge of the tub. How ironic, he thought, that the man who had branded him as his own had actually refused him. 

But how could he want him, honestly? Looking down on himself, he could see he was a total mess.  
His skin was all bruises and scars. He was weak and ugly. Micah had never been so ashamed of his own body like he was now. Taking off his pants, he saw that the part of him that had always been so greedy for Dutch to hurt him and kept begging for more now had a big cut over it and the memories of how he got that made his stomach turn. He was lucky he didn’t eat anything, he thought to himself as it cramped and made him spit out some sour liquid that burned in his throat. No, he stated then, while he was staring at the ground he had just spit on, who would want someone like him? How could Colm want him? It could only be a game he played to entertain himself. Micah could already imagine Colm’s laughter and see him pointing at his naked body while his men were gathering around him to join the fun.

Micah suddenly heard a loud sob and jumped.  
As some tears fell into the water and created little waves he stated that it must’ve been his own. How pathetic, he thought then, he shouldn’t cry. Dutch didn’t like that and Colm won’t either. He rubbed his eyes dry quickly and decided to get over with it. Colm was waiting after all.  
The first step into the water reminded him that open wounds and hot water didn’t come along very well. He hissed in pain but went on. Colm wouldn’t accept him otherwise. At least he could hide his mark of shame under the water that gradually took on a red tone. He scooped some water with his hands and ran it through his hair, freeing it from the earth clumps. It was still totally felted and dull though. There was a lot of work to do it he wanted to make himself representable again. 

As the pain got numbed under the soothing warmth he finally relaxed and let his thoughts and memories fade away for a while. His tired body demanded it after all. He even forgot about himself and dozed off into a pitiful slumber. 

Micah didn’t wake up until the water was cold. Then he hurried to get out and dry. This took him way too long already. He rubbed himself dry, not looking at his bruises anymore. He was lucky that Colm had ordered to bring him new clothes - and more important, bandages. The copious supplies of the wealthy farm really came in handy now. He needed at least one bandage or he wouldn’t live long here. Micah took the cloth and wrapped it around his chest, making sure it was really tight and safe. It had to hide his mark long enough until it faded away and his hair grew back. At least he hoped it would. With the new clothes he almost felt normal again. They didn’t fit him perfectly of course but it was better than nothing. There was even a comb that he used to rearrange his hair. That actually felt like it took forever and he pulled an awful lot of his strands out. When he was finally done he looked at his own reflection in the mirror for the first time. He didn’t really like what he saw but it had to do. Remembering his empty stomach again he stumbled out of the room.

He went back outside, sneaked his way across the yard and reached the campfire where Colm still sat. No one noticed Micah until he kneeled down next to the gang leader.

„Ah, finally…“ his new boss greeted him and seemed to be content. He ordered him to stand up so he had a better look at him. Once again Micah felt an unsettling gaze wandering over him and he sheepishly turned his head away. But Colm touched his chin again to turn his head back. He grinned at the fact that the other man was blushing.  
„Micah…“, he sounded surprised, „your face is all red.“  
„S…sorry“, Micah stuttered an answer.  
Colm snickered and mocked: „I can’t recall you’ve had such good manners before.“  
Micah gulped and didn’t know what to say about that. He helplessly stared at the gang leader and waited for him to go on. The other man noticed there was something wrong in his stare, something strange he couldn’t remember about him. 

„How do you feel?“, he asked softly and put his hand on Micah’s shoulder.  
„I…I’m ok.“ Micah shrugged again, carefully though, so he won’t shake off this warm soothing hand. „Just…starving…“, he begged.  
Colm slowly nodded. „I see“. He sounded understanding. He gestured towards a kettle over a fire that probably had some stew in it. „Take what you need.“  
Finally, after such a long time Micah was allowed to eat. He hastily filled a bowl that had lied next to it with the hot stew and shoved it in, not caring about what it exactly was. Only when his tortured stomach refused to take so much all at once he had to stop. He clutched his fingers around the bowl, waiting for the cramps to go away.

„Don’t you like it?“  
Colm had somehow stepped behind him without a sound and eyed him with curiosity.  
„No, no, it’s…very good…“, Micah stuttered and blushed some more. „It hurts though…“ He lowered his gaze, not daring to look at his new leader, who always hated the weak and useless.  
Colm crossed his arms.  
„That must’ve been hell of a fight.“  
„I…I was in jail for a while…“ That wasn’t even absolutely wrong, only longer ago. „…and they didn’t feed me…“  
Colm mulled over that.  
„How did you break out?“  
„I had some…friends…they didn’t make it though,“ he added quickly.  
„A pity“, Colm remarked, not revealing if he believed Micah or not. To be fair, it had always been typical for him to wear out his so called ‚friends‘. It was even likely that he killed them himself.  
Still, the look Colm gave him now made the other man shiver. As if these cold grey eyes could look right through the bandages and right at the treacherous brand on his chest.  
Micah slowly emptied the bowl and put in on the ground.

„Satisfied?“, the gang leader asked again with a tender voice, but with a smirk.  
Micah nodded and looked up to Colm. Now it was time for him to decide what he would do with him. Micah glanced at the other man, desperate to find a sign of sympathy in his features, some proof that all this wasn’t just a game that would have an horrible ending.  
„Come here,“ Colm curled a finger at him and Micah bobbed up, eager to obey.  
„Careful“, the other man reproved him, „don’t overdo it.“  
Micah continued to walk slowly towards him, head servilely lowered.  
„You feel better now?“, the leader asked.  
„Yes, Colm.“ 

He then described him the way to the master bedroom in the farmhouse and told him to stay there and wait for him. Micah bowed and shied away to find the named room. It was easily found, and when he looked around in it he was overwhelmed by the large comfy bed that dominated it. He couldn’t wait to lie in it. Last night he didn’t sleep very comfortable in that cave and he was so damn tired of all the misfortunes that had happened to him. He only took off his shoes this time and crawled into the soft clean sheets. Maybe he could sleep a bit before Colm would come for him.  
He knew he merely had this one chance to prove he was worth keeping. This night would count. But now there was nothing he could do about it.


	6. Chapter 6

For a long and pleasant time Micah was covered in a warm, soft cloud, protected from all his problems by the peaceful silence and far away from the cruel world that lurked around him. He didn’t even dream about Dutch. All was well - until the door crashed open and made him almost jump to the ceiling. He let out a terrified scream and ducked, covering his head with his arms.  
„I’m sorry…,I’m sorry…,“ he pleaded.  
„Shut up,“ a rough voice snarled. „Didn’t do anything, stupid boy.“  
He heard spurs clinking as the other man came closer.  
„Or did you?“, the voice growled.

Micah cautiously lowered his arms and looked up to the tall man in front of him. Eventually, it all came back to him, where he was and what he was supposed to do.  
„No, Colm…“, he said in a higher voice than usual. „I was waiting for you, just like you said.“  
The tall figure planted himself in front of Micah, hands on his hips. He was still impressive, even though time had wrinkled his skin and made his hair grey.  
„Did you miss me?“ he asked, pinning Micah down with a greedy stare.  
Micah relaxed and broke out of that ridiculous posture. He instead tried to make himself more comfortable and get into a more lascivious pose.  
„Yes, Colm…“ he purred, looking right into these needy grey eyes.

The older man grimaced.  
„Didn’t look like it though.“ Micah heard the anger in his voice. Obviously, he was in a bad mood and Micah couldn’t help but assume it was because of him. In the old days he had learned the hard way how to lighten up his mood. It was all so long ago now but somehow he felt like it would all come back to him eventually. All he had to know was there in his mind.  
Micah stretched out one arm to reach out for the other man, still holding his piercing gaze.  
„Forgive me. I really, really missed you badly,“ he purred, his voice was like silk. „Come here, Colm, let me make up for it.“  
He was begging him now with puppy eyes and watched the frown of his leader turn into a wide evil grin.  
„That’s more like it…“  
He slowly untucked his gut belt, studying Micah with sheer curiosity. He pulled it off and held it up for a short moment that Micah spent staring at it, ready to duck again in case he Colm would bring it down on him. But instead he tenderly put it on the bedside table, making it cling quietly. Micah’s eyes wandered back to Colm and a new wave of excitement ran through his tortured body.  
He had forgotten how much he actually missed that.

„I didn’t see you wear any guns,“ Colm twitted and cocked his head, brutally breaking through the lustful silence and causing the other man to lower his head and blush again.  
„I…I lost them…“, he sheepishly explained.  
The sound of Colm O’ Driscoll’s laughter stung right into his heart.  
Micah cowered and clutched at the sheets. Why did he have to bring this up now? He waited paralyzed for Colm to settle down and make the next steps.  
He still stared at his own hands when Colm finally went to bed.  
The other man caused the sheets to rustle a promise that made another pulse run through his body and stop right between his legs.

„There, there, what’s that sad face…“ Colm dispraised, putting a hand under Micah’s chin and petting his cheek with his thumb.  
„How’s that supposed to comfort me?“  
Micah could smell the scent of whiskey that hit his face now that they both were so close. It was much stronger now than he remembered it from back then. He also had a good view at the dark circles under Colm’s eyes and the paleness of his skin. He looked so much more tired than he admitted to be. Micah now dared to put his fingers on the other man’s cheek and moved them gently up and down, observing the effect it had. He felt Colm’s head lean heavy against his hand, willing to enjoy it. Micah gulped and let his shaking hand wander to the back of the other man’s head, gently pressing against it to make him come closer. Colm gave in and both men drew near, with Micah tilting his own head to the side and closing his eyes. He tasted the salty flavor of his leader’s rough skin when he gently bit his jawline. Colm sucked the air in noisily and threw back his head. 

„That’s much better“, he whispered. 

Micah went on, covering the other man’s skin with soft bites and gently stroked the sore spots with his tongue afterwards. Colm shivered and leaned back into the pillows, allowing Micah to please him. The younger man was surprised about himself, how easily everything came back to him. His hands began to unbutton the black vest almost automatically. The soft fabric and the shining silver buttons made clear that this was a rather precious material. A thought shot through his head, that this was something Dutch and Colm had in common. The silver chain on the vest clanked quietly when he pulled it aside, exposing the pale skin underneath it that he hastened to spoil with more bites and kisses. Colm winded, dug his fingers into Micah’s hair and rudely pulled him to the right spots, relishing that he made the other man whimper in pain. Micah’s eyes watered and every drop that fell on his leader’s skin he carefully licked away. He knew it was never easy with Colm. Still, he was very peaceful now and Micah couldn’t help to test how far he could go with him. He began to open the buttons of his pants with shaking hands and pulled them down gently to free Colm’s length from the tight cloth. He ran his hands up and down massaging his tights first, with the thumb pressing against their inside. Colm instead ran his fingers through the younger man’s hair, patiently waiting. When Micah took his time to stroke the inside of his tights with his tongue he brutally pulled his head back up to his crotch. 

„Come on,“ he demanded harshly. 

Micah was surprised again when his tongue simply found it’s way to the spot his leader loved the most. He began to curl his tongue around the underside of Colm’s length and closed his lips around it, not yet taking all of it. Then he dared to tease Colm, letting his teeth press a little against his vulnerable skin.  
„Micah,“ his leader groaned, suffering. „Be gentle.“  
Micah smiled and kissed the tip that slightly twitched at the touch.  
„You’ll be alright.“  
He loved it when he could make Colm moan his name.  
He tightly grabbed Colm’s ass and massaged it while he began to suck his cock, causing the other man to wind and groan under him. For this short moment, he had power over his leader and by nature he was going to exploit that. To make him suffer more he stabbed a finger deep into Colm’s hole, scratching the dry, sensitive skin with his fingernail. The other man hissed and tucked up his knees to open himself more. He endured that treatment, even pushing against Micah’s finger that began to pump into him and attuned to his rhythm. It was only when the unthankful brat tried to shove his whole hand into him that he lost his patience.

He dragged Micah’s head up, pulling at his ear and twisting it. Micah cried out, eyes watering again and blurring his vision. He was silenced by Colm’s large, hardened cock that was rammed into his mouth, hitting it’s roof. He gagged and coughed, but couldn’t get out of that tight grab and had to bare with Colm who began to fuck his face very unkindly.  
„You think you can play with me?“, he shouted at Micah who was unable to answer.  
„You think my rules don’t apply to you anymore?“ The other man could only beg for forgiveness with his eyes.  
„I’ll teach you respect,“ Colm announced.  
He released him and Micah shied away, loudly coughing and gasping for air. He was still panting when Colm lunged at him and pressed him down into the mattress.  
„Bare to me,“ he ordered.

Micah nervously fiddled with his belt, finally able to release his own, tortured cock that was pressing against the fabric. He had forgotten how much he wanted all of this.  
He bared to Colm, cringing, ass up and face down on the pillow. He felt the other man’s gaze on him again and was glad that his backside was actually one of the few body parts Dutch had left unscathed. He was even more glad when Colm’s leather belt whipped hard over his cheeks with a loud crack that he wasn’t already sore. He screamed and winced, digged his fingers into the bed sheets but held still.  
„I was going to be nice to you, you know…“, Colm said, voice dripping with stagy disappointment and gave him another hard slap.  
„I…I’m sorry, Colm,“ the other man pleaded, but was ignored.  
„I was really happy to see you again…“ He hit him a third time.  
„Me too…“, Micah stuttered, mind spinning. He was supposed to be sorry but the pain that came over him sent pulses right to the spots were it felt good. He sighted and fought the urge to grab himself.  
„Please…,“ he purred, „teach me.“

Colm didn’t waste any more time. Micah cried out when his sore skin got rudely stretched and his head pushed into the pillow. He still wanted to be a good boy and pressed against Colm, taking him in entirely.  
„Harder, Micah?“, Colm asked with a sneer.  
The other man took a deep breath and whimpered „Yes, please.“  
Shortly after, he was pushed down in a fast rhythm, being absolutely helpless while he had to endure the size of Colm ramming into him and wearing down his skin. Colm got turned on by the angsty whimpers he caused and pumped himself into that tight hole without mercy. The pain made sweet shivers run across Micah’s body and he finally gave in to ecstasy. Both now groaned greedily and Micah was the first one to come, desperately exploding all over the blankets, crying for release. Colm sighted quietly when he filled him with his warmth and pulled himself out. Being free from his grab Micah collapsed into the pillow, out of breath and with tears in his eyes.

After a while, Colm touched his shoulder and turned him around to eye him with an obscure look.  
Micah took his chance to be good again.  
„Thank you,“ he whispered and he really meant it.  
His leader didn’t answer, but he pulled him closer and wrapped his arms around him.  
Leaning against Colm’s chest, more tears ran over Micah’s face and he quietly sobbed. He choked the sound by pressing the blanket against his face, embarrassed and insecure how Colm would react to crying.  
Suddenly he felt Colm’s fingers gently ruffle his hair and he felt invited to put his own arms around Colm. The older man didn’t protest.  
He needed to wait a long time in the darkness to realize that there wouldn’t be another punishment tonight.  
For once, he was forgiven.


	7. Chapter 7

It was his first calm night after a long time. Sometimes he saw vague shadows passing by in his dreams, unfriendly faces, some noise that made him wince now and then but nothing was too bad. Wrapped in Colm’s soothing arms he didn’t wake up until sunbeams were breaking through the curtains. This time, he didn’t have to remind himself where he was. Colm was still lying next to him as if he had barely moved that night. Micah could still smell alcohol in his breath, so he guessed it had helped him sleep deeply. Micah lied there, not making a move and watching his leader in silence. Micah couldn’t believe how lucky he was, being saved from death first by an O’Driscoll and then by O’Driscoll himself. 

Thinking about the boy didn’t feel right though. He wasn’t safe…or did Dutch fall for his little trick and spared him? Dutch must be furious now, probably searching for him everywhere, maybe interrogating the boy, painfully. As much as he felt relieved that the boy didn’t know where he was and couldn’t blurt it out somehow, leaving him there left a nagging feeling in his chest. Like it was another mistake in his live he should have avoided. But how? He wouldn’t risk his own life for him now either. But somehow it didn’t feel so right anymore to leave him to his fate. Puzzled, he took a deep breath and directed his thoughts to his own fate again. That was easier.  
Looking back to Colm his gaze fell directly in the other man’s opened eyes. His leader was watching him with a smirk.

„Morning, sunshine,“ he whispered. „Lost in thoughts?“  
Micah felt his ears getting warm while he tried to make a careless face.  
„Morning Colm..“, he answered nervously. „It’s nothing, really.“  
The other man eyed Micah with an unreadable expression. Actually he was very suspicious. Micah was acting strange the whole time. Not for being tangled up in a bad fight and for losing his possessions. That probably wasn’t new to him considering his, well, adventurous lifestyle, but there was something odd in his behavior that he had no reason for. All that ducking, screaming in fear, blushing in shame and even crying. Sometimes Colm was sure he could see guilt flicker in his eyes. Like a few seconds ago, when Micah thought he was unwatched. That didn’t make any sense for him. Was it something he did to him? He would find out eventually.  
Micah gulped nervously but held his leader’s gaze.  
„Did you sleep well?“, he asked Colm to change the subject.  
„Good enough,“ his leader replied. It was a total understatement considering all the failed robberies of the past weeks, the Pinkertons at his heels and the loss of his favorite toy that had ruined his mood and kept him awake. Micah had shown up in just the right moment to make him forget all this shit for a change. He was much better than alcohol. Colm also had to admit that it felt good to feel a trained hand on him again.  
„Do you feel better today?“, Colm rejoined.  
Micah pondered it for a second, than he said in all honesty: „Yes, much better.“  
As proof, he put his hand on Colm’s shoulder and stroked it slowly.  
His leader was quiet for a while, just savoring the gentle touch.

Then he turned around to Micah and put a hand on his chest, making the younger man gasp for air. Misinterpreting the reaction, he began to open the buttons of his loaned new shirt. Micah froze, fighting the urge to push Colm’s hands away. He couldn’t help but touch them, slowing them down.  
Colm stopped and gave him a questioning look.  
„What’s wrong?“  
Micah avoided his gaze this time.  
„I don’t…look so good…right now…“, he stuttered.  
Colm knitted his brows and pushed a little against the other man’s chest.  
Micah winced, believing to feel the glaze on his skin again.  
„Let me see…“, his leader commanded and Micah let his hands go.  
Opening the buttons, Colm revealed the tight bandage around Micah’s chest. Luckily, there were only a few blood stains here and there, not revealing the name that lied underneath it.  
The younger man was shaking as his leader palpated the cloth.  
„Another souvenir of your latest adventure?“, Colm asked sternly.  
Micah gave a weak smile. „Nothing bad“, he appeased the older man, „it’s just ugly…“  
„And it hurts,“ Colm added, pressing on it again and watching Micah wince again.  
He now glared at him.  
„Micah,“ he said in menacing tone, „don’t lie to me. How bad is it really?“  
The other man shook his head eagerly.  
„It’s alright. I just need some time to heal“, he promised.  
„You’ll take care for it, you hear? I won’t let this stand between us,“ Colm hissed.  
„Sure, Colm,“ the younger man came closer. His voice became softer. „As if I would let anything stand between us.“  
His leader still glared at him. „You got any more scratches?“  
Micah shook his head again and continued stroking Colm’s shoulder.  
„Lay back,“ he whispered in his ear. „Let’s make this a good morning.“  
Colm sighted and gave in. How could he refuse such a gentle offer anyway? They could talk later.  
He stretched himself out and enjoyed his new toy’s good behavior.

Micah watched his leader shiver and groan while his hands massaged his chest before they wandered down to open his pants again. He started to work him slowly and rested his own head on Colm’s chest that went up and down with his heavy breathing. Micah wanted to feel the comforting warmth on his bruised skin. Colm allowed it and quickly pressed one hand into the younger man’s hair, but this time he didn’t pull at it. It was merely a tight embrace. Micah didn’t let his leader suffer this time. When he felt him getting harder he tightened the pressure and stroked him faster, just as he needed it. Soon, there was nothing more to hear than Colm’s heavy panting. Micah remembered they never said much in these moments. Colm instead was proud of his toy right now. Back then he had learned very fast, had been eager to obey but was also creative and taking risks. And now he seemed to remember everything. They didn’t need many words, no explanations. It was like he had never been gone.  
Colm was getting close and intended to do something else than letting his toy do all the work.

He grabbed Micah’s wrist and stopped him. The younger man then stared at him with fearful eyes.  
„Did I…?“, he began, but was silenced as Colm pressed a finger against his lips. He touched Micah’s shoulder and shoved him slightly. The other man needed a second to understand, until he turned around in surprise and with excitement while Colm was already pulling his jeans down. Greedily, he prepared him with one finger, setting Micah’s nerves on fire.  
„Colm, please…“  
He gasped loudly when Colm finally buried himself into him. He was more careful this time and the wetness of his already dripping tip eased the pain. Thankfully, Micah leaned against his leader who wasn’t far from reaching his climax. Micah whimpered when he felt Colm spill himself into him. He wasn’t ready yet.  
„Colm…“, he pleaded, reaching for his leader’s hand that lied on his hip.  
Colm didn’t wait. He clutched at Micah’s length and pumped him roughly. To give more spice to it, he rammed his teeth into the younger man’s naked shoulder, who gave a loud, lustful groan.  
Trapped like this, Micah winded helplessly until he ruined the bedsheets once more.  
Sweating and out of breath, Colm released his toy and they lied together in silence for a while. 

„You’re mine,“ Colm whispered and Micah cracked a smile.  
„Yes, of course,“ he agreed.  
He head Colm chuckle and this time it didn’t hurt.  
„I should’ve never let you go“, he suddenly purred.  
Micah froze, startled and unable to answer. Too many memories buried inside him broke loose, feelings that hadn’t mattered to him anymore but now mattered a lot. He didn’t want to spoil this moment though.  
„Maybe…“, he muttered, leaving the answer to Colm.  
But Colm put a hand on his shoulder again and forced him to turn around and look him in the eyes.  
Colm’s gaze met Micah’s pleading look. ‚Was that it“‘, Colm asked to himself. ‚Did it hurt him more than he had shown back then?‘  
He ruffled the younger man’s hair and pulled him closer once more to give him a soft kiss on his forehead.  
„You know what? I’m still tired. Let’s take another nap. You need it too.“  
Micah thought he could do nothing better than staying in this warm, comfy cloud with this gorgeous new leader. He nodded, whispered his agreement and cuddled into Colm again.


	8. Chapter 8

They stayed in bed until midday, then Colm went out to see his gang again. Micah left the bed unwillingly and shooed back into the bathroom were he had left the other bandages. He wouldn’t take any risk of leaving letters of blood an the old bandage. Now that the wounds didn’t open again he hoped it would last much longer. He made the new one just as tight as the other even though it felt very uncomfortable. He also adjusted his clothes and his hair more attentive than he was used to, now that he had Colm around him. He hoped he would heal soon, he couldn’t stay as ugly as this.   
He left the house quietly and carefully and stopped at the porch to glance around the place. Some of Colm’s men were working there, probably those who were honored with cleaning and cooking shifts. The disadvantage of not having women around like Dutch…  
Dutch again…

Micah never forgot about him, not even with Colm. But he had to ban him from his mind somehow. He was still afraid that Colm could find out one day, especially when he was so obvious about being tortured and having wounds everywhere. Sheepishly, Micah searched for his new leader while he preferred to stay hidden until he knew where to go. He finally found Colm, with a mug in his hand, seemingly drinking his delayed morning coffee and talking to another man about who knows what. Micah could use some coffee now too. He left his hiding spot and walked up to his leader, knowing he was viewed by the gang now. He must look to them like some weird phenomenon. He came in roped, dirty, bleeding and haggard - and then he turned out to be valuable enough to share the bed with their boss. It was obvious that he did, now that they both were late. Micah knelt down next to Colm without hesitating. His leader only noticed him because the man he was talking to got distracted and stared at Micah.

„Oh, hello there…“, Colm turned to him. „What took you so long?“  
Micah only stuttered some nonsense as an answer and blushed again in embarrassment. His silver tongue refused to work, no matter how hard he tried to find an excuse for staying in the house for so long, he couldn’t come up with anything.  
„Nevermind“, Colm waved him off quickly, not suspecting something bad anyway. „I got an idea.“   
He turned back to the gang member. „You still need a replacement for poor Seamus, right?“  
„Sure.“  
„I found one. Mr. Bell would be glad to come with you.“ He gestured towards Micah who jumped and widened his eyes, face still red.  
„M…me?“  
„Him?“ The other man was puzzled. „Seamus was one of our best shots….“  
„I assure you Mr. Bell will do just fine“, Colm assured with a wicked grin. „Right, Micah?“  
„Uhm…I…“ Micah’s face felt like it was on fire now.  
„Come on, don’t be shy. I know you can’t stand it to sit on your ass all day. Let’s get up and have some fun.“  
Micah immediately bobbed up at „get up“ but otherwise wasn’t quite enthusiastic.   
You…you sure about that?“, he squeaked, making the third man stare at Colm in disbelief.  
„Why not?“, Colm was irritated. „What’s your problem?“  
„I…don’t feel so good….“ Micah felt his chest burn and bones ache again at the mere thought of leaving this camp.

Colm’s expression went dark.  
„What was that?“, he asked agrily and walked towards Micah.  
The younger man shrank under the glare of his leader, ready to fall on his knees again.  
„I thought I’ll do you a favor…“  
„I’m sorry…I’m sorry…“, Micah whimpered, wrapping his arms around him as a desperate try to protect himself.   
He had screwed up already. He couldn’t even have a short conversation without making unforgivable mistakes. Colm would hurt him now and there was nothing he could do about that anymore. He felt ashamed. He was so useless. Why couldn’t he do anything right?   
His leader came closer, slowly and menacing. Paralyzed, Micah could only stare at the ground and wait, whispering his excuses. The closer the other man came to him the more he had to think about his latest punishments. His head began to spin.  
Suddenly, Micah jumped at the sound of an angry voice.  
„You rather stay here idling and let the others do the hard work?“, it snarled at him from afar.  
„No…no…Please forgive me…I’ll do whatever you say“, he pleaded, praying that he would be spared this time.  
„Look at me!“, the voice snarled.  
Micah yanked his head up and stared into cold grey eyes. He was surprised. For a moment he had expected them to be brown and fiery.

„C…Colm?“, he whispered, clinging at the sight of his new leader that was bringing him back to reality.  
Colm missed that tiny detail.  
„This is the second time you’re trying my patience. I don’t know what’s gotten into your head but if you can’t stop this nonsense by yourself I’ll make sure you will!“  
„I’m sorry…I’ll stop…I promise…You don’t have to…“, Micah stuttered, waiting for his sentence.  
Colm let him dangle for a while, only eyeing him with that piercing look. Micah had to stare into his eyes the whole time, begging that his leader couldn’t read everything out of his face right now. He must be obvious. He had lost control over his face a long time ago and every talent he once had was gone. Why wasn’t he an open book for Colm already? Or did he know? Was this only a cruel game he was playing until hell would break loose? Micah didn’t even notice that he was about to panic. He was trapped in a circle of scattered thoughts and horrible memories. Everything went dark in front of his eyes and he felt like he was drowning in the darkness around him. Even all the air in his lungs had left all of a sudden. 

Colm noticed the younger man was about to snap.  
„Breathe, stupid!“, he snarled and slapped Micah’s face. The younger man was caught off guard, screamed and fell over but then he took a deep breath at least.  
„What happened?“ he rasped, lying in the dirt and panting. He couldn’t recall the last few seconds anymore. Everything had become dark for some reason.  
„I slapped you,“ his leader explained, sounding irritated again.  
„Oh…“ Micah said, sheepishly wiping the cheek that stung. „Thank you…“, he added.  
Colm snorted.  
„Stand up!“, he commanded, sounding more amused now.  
Micah got up much slower and clumsier than he did the first time. He was still feeling dizzy. The only thing he knew was he had made a fool out of himself again.  
„If you’re tired, get yourself a coffee. But I don’t want to hear any more complaints, am I clear?“, Colm said in a more peaceable tone. He knew now that Micah really didn’t feel good and it wasn’t just a sorry excuse. But what else could distract him better than a nice bank heist? He used to like that very much. And besides, Colm wouldn’t withdraw his own orders just because someone didn’t feel alright.  
„Yes, Colm“, Micah answered, thankful that his leader didn’t hurt him more and let him go.  
He shooed away to the pointed direction and left the two men alone.  
Colm watched him, slightly shaking his head.

„Who the fuck is that?“, the other man broke the awkward silence.  
„An old friend,“ his boss answered mysteriously.  
„Can he even hold a gun?“  
„Quite…“, was the short answer.  
The other man rubbed his forehead, searching for a way to get around this.  
„Shouldn’t we go easy on him though? He doesn’t really look good…“  
„He’ll recover,“ Colm answered sternly. „And as I said, I don’t accept idling around for too long. He’ll earn his keep.“  
„But isn’t he supposed to warm your bed tonight?“, the other man whispered.  
„He is…“, Colm affirmed matter-of-factly. „I assume you bring him back to me in one piece.“  
That was even worse.  
„I’m not a babysitter!“, the other man protested.  
„Listen, smartass…“, Colm came menacingly close to the other man’s face. „When I say he’ll do fine than he’ll do fine! Now stop going on my nerves! You got work to do!“  
And with that he left the man alone who’s face was distorted with suppressed rage.  
He would take this shivering idiot with him but if he’ll ruin that heist he would make sure that he’ll curse the day he had set foot into this camp.


	9. Chapter 9

Micah however didn’t witness the argument with Colm that his mere presence had caused. He was cowering in a corner, clutching on his coffee mug. He sensed anyway that Colm’s order to join a heist would bring trouble for him, as a punishment for lying about his wounds. He was sure that if his leader knew how bad they really were he wouldn’t have sent him away. But it crossed his mind that otherwise he would have much bigger problems. He shyly stroked his bandage and felt with relief that it was still tight.  
He didn’t want to leave this camp at all but now that he had to, he also had to be very careful. Dutch could still keep an eye open for signs of his lost whipping boy. Shivering again, he wished he could at least get something that helped him to calm down. The coffee sent comfortable heat through his body, but it stirred up his poor nerves even more. Oh how much he wanted to be back in bed with Colm, lying in a safe warm cloud and being hugged tightly by strong arms. He closed his eyes, trying to recall the cozy feeling. It almost worked but then a gruff voice interrupted his trance.

„Hey, wake up!“  
The man from before was back. The one who wasn’t pleased at all about bringing him to the heist.  
„Stand up“, he commanded and Micah obeyed as fast as he could. The man was watching him doubtfully, then he indicated to him he had to come along and Micah traipsed after him like a good boy. They approached a group of men who supposedly belonged to the one who was leading him. The two men eyed him just as doubtfully as the one did before.

„Long story short“, the group’s leader announced, „I asked Colm to finally give us a replacement for Seamus and he ended up having one of his ideas.“ He made a vague hand movement in the direction of his haggard companion. „Everyone, this is Micah Bell. He’s our replacement.“  
There was a pause in wich everyone stared daggers at Micah who stood there petrified and waiting for their judgement. Someone coughed. Someone else grinned.  
„Didn’t please your boss in bed, right? Now we’ll get rid of you…“ The man came closer, playing with a knife that still had some blood stains on it.  
„Hold it, Jed,“ their leader held up a hand, „Colm wants him back. Unscathed.“  
„You can’t be fucking serious!“, Jed hollered at him.  
The other man stayed calm.  
„I’m not, but Colm pretty much is. He’s very fond of him for some reason. And before you all snap, I’d say we test him.“  
„How? We fuck him or what?“, Jed asked, voice dripping with sarcasm.  
Their leader ignored him and turned back to Micah.

„Let’s introduce ourselves,“ he offered and gestured towards the man who was still sitting and eyeing Micah with an expression that sent a shiver down his spine. „This is Dave Cabot, a sharp thinker and efficient worker. Might stab you in your sleep if you don’t watch yourself.“  
Dave nodded slightly into Micah’s direction and kept watching him.  
„The idiot who keeps running his mouth is Jed McGoohan, more like the hatched man, likes to play with his prey first before he kills it,“ the leader went on and Jed produced a dirty grin and winked at Micah.  
„My name is Henry Scarlet and I’m known as Colm’s most trusted man and in all modesty, I’m his best shot. You better do as I say if you wanna stay alive.“  
Micah nodded quickly. „I got it.“  
„And now…who are you?“

Micah was sweating heavily and his face was burning red once again. He never had a problem with introducing himself, no matter if he was conning or not but now the way everyone’s attention was on him made his nerves flutter and his brain couldn’t stop imagining them darting for him if he made the slightest mistake. And he had wounds on his body that slowed him down, every move hurt and he could rip his scars open anytime.

„I…I’m so fucked…“ he said quietly to himself but everyone heard it. „Even literally…“  
A loud snort from Jed told him that they heard what he was saying.  
He held up his hands.  
„No, no, no…listen, fellers…“. He sighted and began again.  
„Listen, all I did my entire life was robbing and shooting. I took everything, no matter if coaches, trains or banks, I never did any honest work and I’m wanted in at least three towns in this country. I’m sure there’s something I can do for you.“

Henry nodded and walked towards him. „Sounds promising. So, you wouldn’t mind to rob a bank with us?“  
Micah shook his head. „Sounds fun“, he claimed, and any day but today this wouldn’t be a lie.  
„I wonder why Colm wouldn’t take you as a gunman in the first place.“ The other man’s tone was slightly taunting.  
Micah shrugged sheepishly. „Well, that is…an old story…We know each other for a long time now.“  
„I guess you don’t either mind a little test of your…abilities“, he asked him, observing his reaction.  
Micah shook his head again.  
„I’d be glad to have gun back in my hands.“  
Henry drew his revolver, showing it to Micah who expected that he was supposed to use it to prove himself. Instead that weapon was quickly pressed at his temple. Micah gasped loudly and begged the other man with widened eyes, the small bit of proud he had gathered was washed away as quickly as it had appeared.

„Don’t shoot…please…“  
Henry laughed and the others joined him.  
“Sorry Mr. Bell, I said I would test you“, the man chuckled and turned around to the group.  
„Dave, hand this man a gun, will ya“, he ordered, pointing his own gun at Micah for good measure.  
And finally, after such a long time, Micah held a weapon in his hands again. Feeling the cold steel, he felt a bit of his old strength coming back to him. He still missed his own guns dreadfully and his only comfort was that he made it out of Dutch’s camp alive.

He held up his hand and aimed nervously at nothing specific while his hands were trembling pathetically. He gulped again, trying to breathe calmly but he had lost control of his nerves entirely. A fence post in the distance stroke his eye and as a target it was as good as anything else. He pulled the trigger and simply grazed it. Devastated, Micah lowered the gun and wished he could curl up and die, or at least run away and hide forever. He had always been so proud of his sure hand and now Dutch had taken it from him as well. He felt absolutely useless, while that bigmouth Jed was bursting out in laughter. To Micah’s surprise, Henry punched him in the chest to silence him.

„That was only bad luck, right? Can happen to anyone,“ he said to Micah who was eager to approve. Henry came closer. „You didn’t lie, right?“  
„No…I’m just…a bit tired…I didn’t get much sleep last night,“ Micah excused and as expected the other man didn’t want to go further into detail with that and chanced the subject.  
„I suppose you don’t have a horse either?“, was everything Henry asked.  
Micah felt another sting in his chest but this time it didn’t come from the scar.  
He shook his head slowly, so they walked to the paddock to search for the calmest and most patient horse, just in case that this fool was riding just like he was shooting.  
It was a relief to them that Micah had no problem to mount it and move it around.

„Alright, everyone, let’s rob us a bank,“ Henry hollered and they jumped on their horses, ready for some action. Micah instead was following them unwillingly and looked back multiple times, wishing he could come back soon.  
„Aww, homesick already?“ Jed, who had recovered from the punch, mocked him and Micah let out a whimper that made the group break out in laughter. 

„Of all the toys Colm collected you’re by far the least competent. And they’ve all been callow boys“, Dave stated.  
„Well beggers can’t be choosers,“ Henry laughed.  
„His last brat was some dipshit, but at least pretty.“ Jed sneered.  
„Yeah and he could take care of the horses,“ Dave pointed out.  
„They were his only friends,“ Jed sneered.  
They went on amusing themselves over the stupidity of Colm’s former boy while Micah had the feeling that all these stories sounded very familiar. He dared to ask when there was a moment of silence.  
„That boy - what happened to him?“  
„Ah, he got kidnapped by a Vanderlinde. He’s probably dead by now,“ Henry explained.  
„Good for him,“ Dave added. „That brat ratted us out. If Colm ever gets his hands on him he’ll skin him alive.“

More jeers followed and Micah gulped. No, that boy wasn’t dead. But he wasn’t save either. And who’s fault was it? He pressed his eyes shut for a second, fighting back the memories of that fateful night that wasn’t long ago yet. He had been asking himself if the boy would have been safer with Colm, but not in these circumstances. Why had it to be so complicated to repay a debt?  
„Hey, sugarboy, you listening?“, Jed snapped at him.  
Micah’s head shot up.  
„Yes…I mean, no…I mean…“ he stuttered helplessly  
„Shut up!“, he hollered and the three laughed again.

Micah silenced and looked back down on the road. He didn’t disturb them while they were talking about other heists and how fucked up their situation was right now. He could’ve discounted them by telling them that they had still everything they needed instead of the Vanderlindes who were hunted and still to poor to get a way out of their misery. But he wasn’t that stupid.  
Instead he winced at the sight of the small town they were entering. The idyllic landscape and the neat wooden houses reminded him of Strawberry and the panic kicked in again. He slowed down the horse and fell far behind. The O’Driscolls noticed after a while that this new fool wasn’t with them anymore and looked back, finding him standing there and not moving an inch. 

„What the hell…“ Jed whispered.  
„Get. Back. Here. Now,“ Henry scowled.  
Micah obeyed slowly, only concentrating on the man in front of him who looked nothing like Dutch or Arthur.  
„Don’t like that town, kid? Got some unfinished business there?“, he asked him, trying his best to stay patient.  
„W…what’s it called?“, Micah whispered.  
„Sweetwater,“ he growled.  
Micah sighted and rubbed his neck. „Oh…sounds alright.“  
„I’m glad you approve,“ Henry replied sarcastically.  
„Fellers, why don’t we just leave him outside town and pick him up after the heist? Who would know?“ Jed suggested.  
„He’ll snitch,“ Dave shot back and everyone glared at Micah. „He’s Colm’s boy after all.“  
„I won’t say a word,“ Micah quickly assured but was cut off.  
„Bullshit. One glare from Colm and you’re on your knees begging for mercy. He’ll hear everything from you.“  
Micah gulped and fell quiet.

A debate followed about what they would do with the new fool and they agreed on that he had to do the most simple tasks, stay covered behind them and let the talk to others. His only real task was to distract the people inside the bank to save them time.

As Micah entered the bank he went straight to the first person he saw, but there was something about that man that made him ricochet back like he had hit an invisible wall. The man looked entirely unfamiliar, but there was something that gave Micah a heart attack - his cologne. His tortured mind told him that he had run right into his worst nightmare, Dutch van der Linde.

Stumbling backwards, Micah bumped into a lady that stood behind him. She protested but Micah didn’t hear what she was saying. Fearing for his live, he crumbled down on the floor, squealing excuses and covering his head. All eyes were on him, he was the perfect distraction when the three O’Driscolls stormed in and hollered at everyone to get on the ground. Micah was already there and all the time the men needed to open the saves he didn’t move an inch, so nobody of the hostages expected him to be a part of this.

A noble looking man crouched near him and whispered to him urgently: „Do something, mister, you’re armed.“  
But Micah only turned away from the voice hissing in his ear wich words he didn’t catch anymore.  
„I’m sorry,“ he whispered instead.  
„You mind if I?…“ the man asked and reached for Micah’s gun belt, attempting to take care of this himself. As Micah felt his hands on him he jumped up to escape the pain that he knew followed every gentle touch from Dutch who’s scent was still in the room. All the hostages now stared at the one who dared to disobey the O’Driscolls. 

Jed turned around to face the fool who wanted to get a bullet in the head, only to find the new guy standing there. For a second they stared at each other.  
„There you are, dipshit,“ Jed stated, „go check the windows if the law is coming.“  
Micah was still paralyzed and he slowly became aware of where he really was right now when in the heat of the moment the noble man drew the gun from Micah’s belt. He aimed at him, only causing him to get shot and slump on the floor, letting go of the gun that fell down and slipped away. Suddenly the whole room turned into a mess when the hostages tried to get it and they were too many to control for one man alone. Jed randomly shot into them and they stormed apart, giving Micah the chance to pick it up again in a moment of quick-thinking.

„What the bloody hell are you doing in there, J?“, Dave cried from round the corner.  
„I’m preventing Mr. B from killing himself!“, Jed hollered back.  
„Fellers…“ Micah gasped, „the law…“ 

„Just in time,“ Henry said. The men were hastening back with the money and looking for a way to escape. Henry grabbed the lady to shield himself with her body and stepped outside, where the sheriff and his deputies were aiming at him.  
„Good day, gentlemen…“, he greeted almost politely. „Who of you wants to be guilty for killing an innocent woman?“  
„The only guilty one would be you. Let her go!“, the sheriff snapped back, waiting for just one mistake from the O’Driscoll. While he and the deputies concentrated on the one man, the others had a chance to attack them in surprise. A few good aimed shots and they reduced the law vastly. Then they ran out, laughing triumphantly - just to find the street crowded with more armed men. Seemed like the little neat town could defend itself just fine. Now they had to shoot their way out of this and it got hell of a mess.

Micah would have been fine with this for a chance, he only had to do what he was trained for since his childhood, but before he could enjoy it he was rammed by someone who came from inside the bank. And then the Dutch-smelling man was all over him again, weakly punching him in the chest, but it was enough to set his skin on fire again. Every hostage knew that Micah was the easiest target and he proved that by screaming his lungs out, forgetting about that he could just kill him. A bullet from Dave released him from the torture and he crouched away from the dead body, spotting even more men coming for him. 

That was too much. He gave up to the panic that flooded his brain and muscles and ran from the fight in the opposite direction the O’Driscolls went. Voices screamed after him, everyone wanted to get their hands on him again. Micah finally sent some bullets behind him, but the townsfolk was crowding the street, he didn’t see the end of this. He wasn’t on the run for very long until he collided with a rock of a man. Looking up to his face, Micah noticed nothing but blue eyes, light hair and a disgusted grimace - Arthur Morgan.

While Micah was busy screaming in horror the townsman punched him to the ground and aimed his gun at him. Micah lied there, paralyzed once more and waiting for his death when he heard another gunshot from behind. „Arthurs“ chest was suddenly painted red and he fell with a growl. Someone grabbed Micah from behind and pulled him on his feet, trying to drag him off.  
„No!“ he shouted in fear and rammed his elbow into the other man’s chest who let go of him. Micah heard him holler curses after him as he hurried on to escape.

Micah ran now criss-cross through the town, followed by the O’Driscolls and angry townsfolk alike. Henry, Jed and Dave mounted quickly and rode through that mess of flying bullets and corpses. As much as the panic pushed Micah forward he wasn’t faster than a galloping horse. A lasso was wrapped around him and he collapsed into the dirt once again. He was quickly thrown on a horseback and all he felt before blacking out was his burning scars wich were ripped open.


	10. Chapter 10

The O’Driscolls rode as fast as they cold, away from the enraged townsmen and the reinforcements of the law. They would come home with a lot of money, enough to survive for a while but they were still furious. That idiot Micah Bell had almost ruined the whole heist with doing who knows what and bringing his own life in danger. Colm would let it out on them but they would do everything to get Micah punished instead. Henry had known anyway that this idiot couldn’t handle himself, no matter what he claimed to be. He had seen him shaking and whimpering at Colm’s feet after all. Wether he lied about his reputation or not - he would make sure his boss took care of him. The O’Driscolls finally escaped the law, cussing and cursing Micah and Colm’s stupid ideas. Storming into the camp their protests were heard all over the camp. They alarmed their boss who approached them, wondering what all the fuss was about. Everyone of them was alive and well, so did they lose the money?

„What happened?“, he snarled at them, preparing for bad news. Then he saw that a certain precious someone was absent. „Where’s Micah?“, he asked sharply.  
„He’s alright,“ Henry assured and gave the other men a sign. They pulled someone off a horse and dropped him at Colm’s feet. The hard landing brought the man back to consciousness. He moaned loudly and pressed a hand on his chest, were some blood stains were visible.  
„See, he was sleeping like a baby…“, Henry sneered. Jed leaned over him and shouted: „Morning, sunshine!“, what caused the man under him to whimper and curl up into a ball.  
They laughed and more men gathered around the group, joining the laughter until their boss raised his voice.

„Shut up, all of you!“, he hollered and they became dead silent. No one even blinked. Colm crossed his arms and glared at the three men who looked rather meek now. „You promised me…“, he hissed menacingly. „Promised me to bring him back unscathed. And what is this?“, he pointed at Micah. „He’s now a whimpering, bloody pulp!“ No one dared to move, even Micah stopped shaking. „Explain this. Now,“ Colm demanded with a tone that didn’t allow any excuses.

Henry cleared his throat before he replied, gesturing wildly. „We did everything we could for him. He had nothing to do but not standing in our way but…he…still fucked it all up! He’s crazy! We had to save his live more than once.“ Jed and Dave nodded eagerly.  
„He had always been…crazy,“ Colm spit the word in Henry’s face, „but he used to get his job done. What did you do to him?“  
„Us?“, the other man shouted desperately. „Nothing! We stopped him from killing himself. Just ask him!“

Everyone’s glare now fell on Micah, who was still caught up in his nightmares. His memories were blurry, all he could see was shadows from the bank they robbed, the shooting in the streets and his try to escape. Nothing looked good. His heart was beating loudly and he was sure he had escaped Dutch’s and Arthur’s clutches once again. He had known before that he would meet them again. They waited for him, to finish what they had started. After he ran from Arthur he remembered the whole town was after him, probably Dutch’s work. If it wasn’t for the O’Driscolls…  
„It’s true…,“he rasped, „…They saved my life…he almost got me….“  
He was still in fear. He crossed his arms around his chest. He had to stop the bleeding, hide the letters…Dutch only waited for the moment Colm would find out who’s name was branded forever on his chest. He wanted to stay Colm’s property so badly.

Colm knelt down to Micah and grabbed him by the lapels. He saw that the other man’s face was all white, with dark blue rings under his eyes and reddened eyeballs. He seemed like he didn’t really see Colm, he stared right through him, absent and horrified.  
„Micah…“ Colm shook him. „What happened?“  
„He was there…“ the other man whispered to himself.  
„Who,“ his boss shouted and shook him some more, but when he stayed silent he looked back at Henry who shrugged, arms wide open.  
„Nothing but townsfolk and the sheriff,“ he said. „He claimed he’s wanted in these parts, maybe they knew him. He didn’t like to follow us into town but said it was ok when I told him it’s Sweetwater. If you ask me, he’s bullshitting us from the start.“ 

Colm’s gaze fell back at Micah who was still far away in some dream. A sharp sting from Colm’s backhand startled him back to reality.  
Pressing his hand on his burning cheek, he looked at his boss who pinned him down with his glare.  
„You’re hiding something.“ It wasn’t a question, it was a menace. Micah whimpered and shook his head, clutching harder at the letters on his chest. He earned another slap that threw him on the ground.  
„Don’t lie to me!“, his boss screamed. „I’ve been patient with you - generous, even. And this is how you repay me?“

Micah struggled to get up on his knees again and shook his head.  
„Look at me!“, Colm ordered, grabbed his arm tightly and jerked him around to look into his face. Micah couldn’t stand the stare. He pressed his eyes shut and silently began to beg for mercy. In his dreams, he knew what was about to come for him now. He was a traitor, he had sold his gang to the law and there was nothing he could do anymore. If only Dutch would see how much he regretted that and how much he wished he could do something to pay the dept. If only he knew how much he missed him. His scent, his voice, even his hands that caused so much pain, he longed for every single part of him.  
„Please,“ he whimpered at the gorgeous man in front of him, „touch me.“

Colm smiled sadistically. „You want my hands on you?“  
Micah clasped his hands, begging. „Yes, please do it.“  
Colm granted his wish, another sharp pain ran over his sensitive skin, another short moment to feel the warmth of a hand on him - it was almost like a gentle pat.  
„More?“, Colm’s soft voice purred.  
Micah held up his head and begged: „Yes, please.“  
He felt the pain already tickle in the right spots.

Colm nodded gently and the other man prepared for another touch. But then Colm jumped up, swung his leg and kicked the kneeling man into the guts, sending him down to the ground. A scream escaped from his lips and he curled up again.  
„You want that?“ his boss hollered and kicked him again.  
Micah gasped loudly. The soft tickle was gone and left nothing but terror in his guts.  
„Please, stop…“ he whined now.  
„What did you say? I can’t hear you!“, Colm shoved him around with his foot, so he could see his face again.  
„Stop it, please…“ Micah said louder, tears ran down his reddened cheeks. Though the blur he saw the O’Driscolls standing around him and grinning wildly.

His boss had no mercy. He rammed his foot into him a third time and Micah curled up to the other side, face into the dirt.  
„I only touch you if I want to! I only stop if I want to! Am I clear?“, his boss shouted.  
„Yes…yes sir…“ the other man whimpered and crawled back to Colm’s feet. „Please, forgive me…“  
His boss assured him with played generosity: „If you tell me the truth like a good boy, maybe I’ll forgive you.“  
Micah remained a whining mess in the dirt. It wasn’t the first time someone had promised he would spare him if he behaved. It never happened. He wanted to obey, of course, he longed for mercy, for a gentle touch, someone patting his head, embracing him, just something nice. But he had to hide a horrible secret and he couldn’t tell the truth. It would only make everything worse. But he had to say something to his boss, or else he would punish him horribly. Desperately, he covered his face with his hands and cried.

„I’m waiting,“ Colm snarled.  
„It’s nothing, it’s nothing, Colm…Please don’t be angry…“ Micah sobbed.  
His boss let out an annoyed snort. „Alright, you’re leaving me no choice…“  
These words set Micah’s nerves on fire. He knew them too well! They were followed by incredible agony. His basic instincts took over and he crawled away from his angry boss, trying to escape.  
„No…no…please don’t do this…“ he screamed, searching for a way out but Colm’s men were everywhere, pushing him back into the middle of their circle, guffawing and shouting insults. Colm’s voice raised above them.  
„Hold him!“

Micah was grabbed by multiple hands and pressed face down into the dirt. Quietly, he kept on begging for mercy, as he felt them rip his shirt from his skin. He heard footsteps slowly coming closer. His own breath was ringing in his ears and his heart was beating wildly against the stony ground. When he heard a whip crack, he gave a jerk. Memories came back to him - a heavy bull whip that tore his skin apart. It would come for him now. 

„Last chance“, Colm offered, running the leather though his fingers. „Speak.“  
„I’m sorry…I’m sorry…“, was all Micah could answer. „Please…“, he began, but a heavy whiplash stopped his pleading and made him scream at the top of his lungs, digging his fingers into the dirt.  
When he didn’t speak, Colm mused: „How many do you need?“ He looked around the crowd and gestured towards his most trusted. „What do you think?“  
„In this condition? I’d say no more than five.“, Henry answered.

The others gave their bets too. It was like a competition all of a sudden. Micah instead cried silently. If only he could tell Colm. He hated himself for all those marks on his ugly body and now he hated himself too for lying to Colm. He owed him so much and all he did was telling him stories. Just like he did with Dutch. It was like he would always be a rat, no matter where he went. He wished he could tell him, but he was too afraid of what Colm would do with him if he heard the truth. He was also afraid of his own weakness, that he would talk sooner or later. He couldn’t stand the whiplashes, the insults and the laughter. It was all too much. His only chance was to fall unconscious. He hoped so much it would happen at three.

When the whip bruised his skin a second time, he screamed again. He heard the O’Driscolls shout the number. The third crack came shortly after, when he had no breath to scream. The forth made everything around him blur. The noise, the pain, the smell of leather and blood melted into each other and formed one image. A beautiful but dangerous image of a man in a blood red vest, with thick black curls under a black had and fiery brown eyes. He looked at Micah with disgust - but also with a slight bit of disappointment. „You know I can handle a man who doesn’t understand his own tiny mind, but what I don’t tolerate is a rat that tries to kill me,“ he said in a patient tone, like he was talking to a very small child. A second later another sharp bite into his skin and flesh shook Micah’s body. 

„I’m sorry,“ he said crying.  
„Oh, you will be…“, Dutch enjoyed to say.  
„I wish I didn’t betray you…“ Micah went on. He didn’t hear his own voice anymore but he knew what he wanted to say, now that Dutch was finally listening to him. „I wish I didn’t sell you to the law…I wish I never told these Pinkertons where you’re hiding…“ He couldn’t tell more, because he felt he was jerked around. The blur went away and he ended up staring into the cold wrathful eyes of Colm O’Driscoll.

„Say. That. Again,“ he hissed, his hands were shaking in rage.  
The other man thought hard about what he could’ve said to him. When he remembered, he could do nothing but scream and try to escape the other man’s grip. A hand was wrapped tightly around his mouth and Colm grinned at him insanely.  
„You betrayed me!“ he shouted. Micah tried to scream but all he could do was muffled noises.  
„You confessed…“ Colm pulled out his gun and held it against Micah’s forehead.  
„Now, when I’ll let you speak…,“ he said in a dangerously calm voice, „there is only one last question I want you to answer…tell me…how could you do that to me, after everything I did for you? I raised you…I’ve been like a father to you…Will you answer me…please?“ Micah nodded, the quiet voice of his boss had calmed him down. He slowed down his breath and began to think again. He could still save himself. He didn’t have to die now.

As Colm let go Micah spoke carefully and kept eye contact with his boss.  
„What I said wasn’t meant for you. I didn’t betray you, Colm and I could never do that. I know how much I owe you and you mean so much to me.“  
Colm eyed him doubtfully. „And may I ask who you was talking to instead?“  
Micah gulped. „I…had a dream…someone from long ago…it doesn’t matter.“  
Colm’s features hardened. „Tell me then.“  
„I…like to keep that as a secret….“, Micah tried.  
His boss nodded slowly, he began to smile - and smacked the gun over Micah’s head, again and again until the hard metal hit a sensitive spot and blessed him with unconsciousness.


	11. Chapter 11

„This has to stop…“ Micah thought waking up for the umpteenth time after a blackout. He hated this feeling of waking up in a fluffy cloud of nothingness and slowly sensing all the pain coming back. It was getting worse everytime it happened. It wasn’t only about bruises and whipping marks anymore but also deep shame and self-hatred. He had disappointed Colm, the only one who had been willing to help him, who had been gentle and loving all the time. Why did he have to hurt everyone who ever cared for him? 

Micah was feeling sick again and even worse, he was blind. He was sure he had opened his eyes and he didn’t feel a bandage around his head either but still it was all black around him. He started to sob into the silence. No reason to hold back the tears now. If he was blind, there was no use for him anymore. He only had one wish - that he could tell Colm the truth. His life was over anyway, and lying to his mentor had been his biggest mistake. Whatever Colm would do to him now, wether he knew the truth or not, it would always end with death. There was no escape. 

Moving a little, he sensed there were ropes around his wrists and ankles. Back in the day, Colm did never rope him, no matter how badly he punished him. Did he still believe he was a traitor? Did he already outcast him? Micah knew too well what Colm usually did to traitors. Horrible things. Even worse than what Dutch had done to him - except for the branding. He had seen Colm tear skin from shivering flesh and hanging his screaming victims upside down for days, so everyone could see the warning. Micah broke into sweat. His mentor wouldn’t do that to him, right?

He had to sit and brood like that for a very unsettling long time, shivering, starving and crying, until he heard a wooden door crack open. All of a sudden the room was lit up and the sunbeams burned in Micah’s eyes. He blinked rapidly, recognizing a figure that stepped in, slowly taking shape. It turned into Colm O’Driscoll. His expression was blank, unreadable. Micah knew he used to look like that when he tortured his victims with high concentration, until he totally destroyed the creature that had dared to mess with him. That horrible mask broke though when Colm stared at a point below Micah’s face. 

„You fool, look at what you’ve done, what you made me do to you…“, he whispered.  
He knelt down to the crying man who tried to jerk away from him. Carefully, he stroked the bleeding spots, so he wouldn’t cause any more pain. Then he shoved his fingers under the bandage that hid his chest to shove it away.

„Wait…“ Micah’s voice was only a rasp. His mouth was so dry he started to cough.  
Colm stopped, glaring back at Micah, his expression getting darker.  
„Let me tell you…“ Micah tried again when his coughing fit was over. „….tell you the truth first…“  
His boss continued pulling at the bloody cloth and made Micah whimper in fear. Then he let his hand sink.  
„There must be something really important under that bandage…“  
The other man couldn’t stand the glare anymore so he instead spoke to his shivering knees.

„You know…after you sent me away…I joined several other gangs, met several „friends“ and lost them again…just like it goes…I’ve never been loyal to anyone again…“  
„Touching…“, Colm remarked. „But then what?“  
„It was in some small town, I don’t even remember the name of it…I was walking into the saloon and saw that there was a fight about to start. Two fellers against one. Normally I don’t give a shit about who’s gonna win but this time…“  
He struggled, afraid of how Colm would react to hearing his worst enemy’s name.  
„What?“, his boss asked impatiently.

„That man…was Dutch van der Linde“, Micah confessed with a trembling voice. He felt the room getting colder and he saw both surprise and disgust in Colm’s eyes. He didn’t grant Micah a word though so he had to continue.  
„He tried to calm them down but he must’ve offended them badly…They were about to shoot him and…and…I thought that’d be a waste…“  
Colm was now hanging on Micah’s every word, fists clenching.

„I never met him before but I knew his features from the wanted posters…“ Micah didn’t admit that Dutch was way more handsome than these poor drawings showed. He had been overwhelmed at first sight. Could he let someone like Dutch die? To some ugly drunkards who didn’t know who they were dealing with? No. It had been an easy choice to pull the trigger at these bastards. He would never forget the thankful and surprised look he got from Dutch when his two enemies slumped on the ground dead. It was material for the most pleasing dreams. Dutch would never look at him like that again…How could he break that man’s heart?  
But he couldn’t say that to his boss, so instead he said: „…and I remembered what you told me about him…so I thought I could do more than just kill him with a bullet. So I shot the other two idiots and escaped with Dutch out of the saloon and the whole town.“ 

That had been fun too - and a good way to show his worth to Dutch, riding along with him like they were old friends. He knew a good hiding spot on the way too, and when they first talked to each other all Micah had to do was playing the broken lone wolf and to listen to Dutch’s great plans with wide eyes like a child at Christmas - not that he ever had a real Christmas — but he was very persuading anyway. 

„Of course he had to offer me a place in his gang. That’s part of his code or something. He got a lot of useless parasites in his gang this way but whatever…“  
Colm liked that joke. He relaxed and looked like the story was going into the right direction.  
„I needed to hide anyway because I got too wild in another town nearby so I could use a bigger gang to leave the country with. Dutch was suffering from a failed heist in Chicago and was moving to the south where he had great plans.“  
Colm snorted. Typical Dutch. 

Micah remembered the gang being not too pleased about the way he had saved their boss. They had needed this town to collect supplies for they travel though the cold dead mountains but thanks to Micah’s fast bullets the whole town was chasing them away all of a sudden and Dutch vanished with him. He came back empty handed - but with Micah. They said he shouldn’t have shot the drunkards. A distraction would have been enough. But Dutch had put all the blame on himself and had presented Micah to them as their new member. And since then he had always had a special place in Dutch’s heart.  
Until he broke it.  
Sold it for gold….  
Micah blinked.  
He couldn’t cry again…it was alright…he was with Colm now…

„For a while I did nothing but adjust to their rules. Soon, I had Dutch’s trust and he even asked me for advice on cases he would normally discuss with his so-called sons: His most trusted gang members he had saved from the streets when they were children. He raised them, lived with them for decades. But still, he asked me instead. I think he liked my ways…but I’m getting off the point.“  
„No problem. I find it very interesting.“ Colm gave him a hungry look.

„When we reached the south he was already calling me his third son - not officially, but in private…I…was ready…to play a little game with him…“ Micah stopped again. He sensed a knot forming in his throat that choked him. He remembered how he confessed his betrayal to Dutch…how much it suddenly hurt o speak about the game he had been so proud of…

„He had set his hopes on a rich town named Blackwater. He wanted to get all the money from there and go west, to build a farm there or whatever…something about peace and quiet and freedom…The opportunities were nearly endless in that town. I ended up being lucky twice: first I found out about a ferry that carried 250 000 $ with it. It was the biggest amount we’ve heard about so far. And second…I…had…visitors….“ He gulped. Oh how much he wished he had just shot these fuckers and went with Dutch. He could be rich by now, living far west and still be with Dutch who trusted him more than anyone else. 

Colm noticed Micah struggled to speak again. This time he put a hand on his shoulders, softly squeezing it. „Who were they?“, he asked him quietly and soothingly.  
„P…Pinkerton agents….I was lucky because they didn’t come for me. They knew my „adventures“ in the northern countries but they offered me a deal. They wanted Dutch…“ A shiver ran though his body that not even the soothing warmth of Colm’ hand could stop.  
„Of course I promised them everything but I didn’t plan to obey. At best, I would play both ends against the middle and end up being a rich man.  
I convinced Dutch to get the ferry because it was the most risky heist. If the agents appeared there, no one would suspect a betrayal. It would be just bad luck. I told the Pinkertons about the heist and…and…“

Colm patted his shoulder gently. „And?…“ he encouraged him.  
„Well…it…sank into chaos. Not only because of the agents. You probably know about it. It was in all the newspapers. In the end, I earned nothing from it. Dutch escaped, lost the money and I was stuck with him in the east…with three of his gunmen dead…and with no supplies…  
Micah shuddered.  
„I gotta give it to Dutch, he played well. Can’t say I didn’t enjoy it.“  
That was half true. He didn’t really know what Dutch was capable of until Blackwater and Colter. His strength held the gang together, even though everyone was disappointed about him listening to Micah. No one dared to say into his face. In addition, Dutch protected him again…He owed him so much…

„We…met your gang in Colter…you remember?“, Micah asked shyly.  
Colm nodded. „Was quite a disaster for me…“  
„We been desperate, starving and freezing…and…I…I…had no choice but to follow their orders…“  
His boss ran his fingers through Micah’s hair. „I don’t blame you, my boy…“  
„I…couldn’t raise more suspicion….even Dutch looked at me differently for a while…“  
„It’s alright,“ Colm purred.

„So…we survived the storm…left the mountains…and now we had Cornwall at our heels too…because we had robbed his train for money…“ Micah noticed he said „we“ very often. Him and the gang were one all of a sudden. Like their sorrows were his and the other way around. Now Colm could get suspicious. Micah felt he was moving on very thin ice. It was ironical, because Dutch hated him like poison and would slaughter him horribly if they ever met again.

„I had to convince the agents too that I didn’t fool them and that I would follow their orders again. They gave me a second chance and now I had to think about who I’ll follow. Nobody had much to offer anymore but Dutch had more plans…and he trusted me again…but then…it all went downhill…“  
Micah shivered heavily, his eyes watered.  
Colm quickly cupped the other man’s face with both hands.  
„Micah…“, he whispered…“Look at me.“  
Sobbing, the other man searched Colm’s eyes though the blur.  
„You’re save…you’re with me…“  
Micah felt Colm’s thumbs stroke his cheeks. The touch filled him with warmth that slowed down his breath and calmed his fearful heart.

„He…found out…Dutch…he found…I was so stupid, Colm…“, he blurted out sobbing.  
His boss continued comforting him. „It’s alright…Just tell me what happened.“  
Micah couldn’t describe how Dutch found the business card in his pockets, couldn’t confess that all of this just happened because he had followed Dutch and Arthur in secret when they had wanted some privacy. Couldn’t confess that he was jealous and that his worst nightmare got real the moment he saw them kissing and clutching at each other. Couldn’t confess that he wished he had shut his damn mouth so he could’ve kissed Dutch some day too.  
So instead he just said: „He punished me…“ and broke into tears.

Colm tried everything, but he couldn’t get another word out of Micah. He now pulled the bandage from the other man’s chest - and froze in his tracks.  
The skin was burned, several spots were ripped open and bleeding. Dry blood hid some of the red strokes that covered the whole chest from left to right - but it was still plain to see, that the name of his arch enemy was staring back at him. DUTCH.  
Now it was Colm who shivered, although not in fear, but in blind rage. Goddamn Dutch van der Linde, first he murdered his brother in cold blood, just to teach him a lesson, then he stole him Kieran, that boy who had so much potential to become like Micah once, and now he had destroyed Micah himself, stole him, branded him, made him his property and turned him into a weak and whimpering mess, with the name on him that always mocked him whenever he lied in bed with him. Colm shouted out his anger, smashed whatever was in that room and when nothing was left, he pulled out his knife. He pressed it against Micah’s chest, breaking the skin. He wanted the name gone, he couldn’t stand it any longer. Even if he had to cut it from Micah’s chest…  
„No, please, don’t!“, the other man screamed in fear. „D…don’t skin me…“ 

Colm looked at the sobbing mess that once had been his proud boy. He decided otherwise, threw the knife to the ground. No, he wouldn’t humiliate him any more. Dutch would pay instead. Colm would slaughter his whole gang and Dutch will have the honor to watch them beg for mercy until he would die himself, alone and broken. And Colm would be doomed if that couldn’t turn Micah back into his old self. Poor Dutch, he thought sadistically, whatever he had planned for Micah, he had failed. That boy was here now, alive, ready to help him get revenge. Dutch would curse the day he ever messed with him.

But first he had to bring his poor boy back to his senses. He was crying bitterly, the sobs almost choked him and he pressed his eyes shut. Colm knelt down again and embraced Micah, cutting the rope behind his back that held his wrists together. Like obeying to a reflex, Micah wrapped his arms around the other man and sobbed into his chest, begging for mercy. His boss whispered gentle words to him and patted his back. Wrapped into Colm’s arms, Micah slowly awoke from his nightmare, remembered that he had left the tree long ago and that there was someone caring about him again. He hugged his boss tightly and whispered in his ear: „Thank you.“


	12. Chapter 12

If there was heaven, it would feel like this, Micah thought. Clutching to his dear boss he felt warmth running in waves through his body. He deeply loved the man who was hugging and stroking him and whispering sweet nothings in his ear. He wished to stay like this forever, but after a while the other man got restless and pushed him back to lock gazes with him. He stroked some dirty blonde hairstrands out of Micah’s face and smiled at him.  
„Better?“, he asked, his voice like silk, like the softest bedsheets.  
„Yes, Colm…“, Micah purred against the other man’s hand.

„Let’s get outta this shack then…“ Colm softly slapped his boy’s cheek and stood up. Micah followed him clumsily. His boss watched him struggle, internally cursing the man who did this to him. He offered Micah ist arm and led him out of the shack he had locked him in before for bad behavior. Stupid boy…why didn’t he just talk right away? And now he had the feeling that there was still more his boy was hiding. Colm was mistrusting by nature and this feeling had never betrayed him yet. But this was Micah after all, being horribly wounded and humiliated for the rest of his life. Of course that was nothing he would easily confess, not even to his boss. It was time to prove Micah that it didn’t change anything between them. He still belonged to him, no Dutch could destroy that. He could only doom himself by trying.

When the two men walked to the farmhouse no one dared to make any remarks about Micah’s condition. The way Colm held him tightly told everyone in the gang that he was forgiven and would be protected if necessary. Micah didn’t dare to look up to anyone they walked by. Clinging to his leader, he trusted him to keep him safe, wherever they went right now. He hoped it would be somewhere warm and cozy. He was so tired again and blacking out didn’t replace a good night of sleep. 

Colm led him upstairs and into a bedroom that was smaller than the master bedroom and dimmed by heavy curtains. They walked towards the bed and Colm flipped over the blanket to help Micah lie down. It was such a release to lie his damaged body onto something comfortable again. The last night with Colm seemed to be so far away now. Micah couldn’t believe it was only one day ago. Colm sat down by his side, keeping his hands on him.  
„Wait for me here…I’ll prepare the bathroom for you…“  
Micah didn’t mind a bath either. If only he could wash away the mark.  
He purred a thank you and leaned back. It was so pleasing to know that Colm took care of him. It still hurt a little when Colm let go of his body and left the room, quietly closing the door. Micah smiled and closed his eyes. His brain allowed him a dreamless nap. When Colm came back he saw his boy sleeping deeply. He sneaked towards him and watched him for a while, before he leaned over him and placed a peck on his forehead.

„Wake up…“ he said quietly.  
Micah stirred, gasped loudly and stared at Colm for a second until he calmed down.  
„It’s me…“, Colm whispered soothingly.  
Micah felt his heart race about how near the other man came to him. He still felt the kiss on his skin. It felt unreal. Was this gorgeous man even there, plastering him with love and comfort?  
„…Colm?“, he asked shyly.  
„Yes…get up…your bath is ready.“ Colm offered him help again and Micah stumbled out of the bed. He had regained a bit of strength though. He wasn’t leaning as heavily on his boss as before.

When they entered the bathroom though Micah got very, very nervous. He had never been shy about showing his naked body to Colm, but he didn’t have these ugly bruises back then. Now, he didn’t know how to handle that his boss would see him naked without the protection of blankets or bandages. He cast a longing gaze at the shining water surface in the bathtub, that was both comfortable and a good way to hide. But Colm instead led Micah to a chair that stood next to the tub and helped him to sit down. Micah didn’t know whether he should wrap his arms around himself or keep clutching to his dear boss who was gazing intensely at him now, eating him up with his eyes. As much as Micah loved that look he thought he didn’t deserve it anymore. He would be a disappointment. 

However, when Colm reached forward and palpated his bare skin with his fingertips he got goosebumps all over his body and everywhere his boss touched him he felt the heat on his skin. Micah began to smile helplessly, face redder than the burn marks. He watched Colm’s hands exploring his shivering body, stroking up and down his arms, gliding over his his chest where his heart was racing underneath, fondling the bare neck and finally lifting Micah’s chin up with his fingertips. Then he smiled back at him, baring his teeth, making his boy wish for another bite in his shoulder. 

Colm enjoyed the suspense that grew between them. He could feel Micah’s pulse that not only hammered in his chest but also ran along his neck. He liked Micah’s new habit of blushing easily, telling him that his boy was already melting in his hands. Right now he leaned his head against Colm’s hand, silently longing for the touch. Colm petted his cheek and played a little with the blonde beard that covered it. 

Micah suddenly gasped. Until now he had forgotten to breathe. He soaked in the air loudly but he didn’t move an inch except for his chest that was pumping. Colm reached for his lips with this thumb. They were bruised too, run dry while starving and cracked open by the gags and punches he had received. Micah swallowed loudly, trying to fight down the memories. He must have really ugly lips right now. 

„Micah…“, Colm’s gentle voice broke the silence, „Soo nervous…“  
Micah wondered why he wasn’t melting already, turning into a pile of blood and sweat to Colm’s feet because no one had whispered his name like that in ages. He was about to fall on his knees, but Colm’s hand held im upright. He half-opened his mouth to answer something, but his brain was empty. His boss took that as an invitation and a heartbeat later, Micah felt a soft warm tongue breaking through his lips. He made a little surprised noise and froze for a second before he leaned into the kiss. His own tongue massaged Colm’s submissively, until Colm grabbed his neck more roughly and pulled him even closer. Micah finally relaxed, stopped thinking and gave into the touch, letting his instincts lead his movements. When their lips parted after what had felt like an eternity, Micah had forgotten he was in a bathroom. He grabbed Colm by the neck and leaned him forward again to kiss his upper lip, causing his boss to groan deeply.

Micah became more active, licked over Colm’s lips and begged for more. Impatiently, he slipped through them and stroked Colm’s teeth with his tongue until they opened and let him in. Their tongues played with each other while his boss still led the kiss. Micah noticed with pleasure that his leader’s fingers crawled into his hair, pulling at some strands. He loved the soft twinge that was sending shivers through his body. Micah obeyed only reluctantly when Colm suddenly shoved him away. He greedily reached for the buttons on his leader’s shirt but the other man slapped his hand.

„Ah ah ah…not yet, naughty boy,“ Colm tutted, holding up a finger.  
Micah jumped at the slap like he had received a whiplash. All the sweet suspense was gone. He had taken it too far and would be punished again. He shied away from Colm in shame, his face turned even redder and he began to stutter. „’I…I’m s..sorry…“, he said wrapping his arms around himself and looking down on the floor in embarrassment. But Colm quickly put a finger on his lips and silenced him.   
„Sssh…my boy…it’s alright…“, he whispered, fondling Micah’s legs.   
„Just let me help you out of these lumps…“ 

He slowly opened Micah’s belt and the other man calmed down, breathing heavily and shifting his head back. With his eyes closed, he concentrated on nothing but theses talented fingers on him that freed him from the tight cloth once again. It was only when he felt the cold air chill his bare legs that he looked at his leader again and realized he was naked now with nothing protecting him from Colm’s judging gaze. He couldn’t help it but be ashamed again, that he wasn’t as attractive anymore as he had been. He had put on weight too, not even the many days of starving could change that. They only eat up his muscles and weakened his shape. Micah turned his gaze away from his boss and eyed the bathtub instead.   
He left Colm frustrated. Micah’s passion had died down again even though he comforted him. His boy was still scared, didn’t move, like he was a rabbit in front of a snake and playing dead. What the hell was wrong again? 

„Look at me,“ Colm ordered and watched Micah obey.  
His boy rapidly turned his head back. It could’ve been funny in other circumstances.   
„What’s wrong?“   
Micah eyed him like he was awaiting something to happen that scared him. Like Colm would attack him any second. Then Micah finally cleared his throat to stutter an answer.   
I…I’m wrong…“

Colm stared at him.  
„What?“, he asked blankly.  
The other man cringed in shame. Why did his boss have to torture him like that? Make him say it again and stare at him all the time?  
„I…“, he tried again. His voice was breathy. „I…should…bathe first…“, he managed to say.  
It wasn’t a lie at least, Micah assured himself. He really felt baked in filth. Colm lifted an eyebrow and kept eyeing him for a long and uncomfortable moment. It was like he was staring right into Micah’s soul. His boss could always do that. He could intimidate him with only one glare. It wasn’t helping that this didn’t work only on Micah, but on his enemies too. But this time, Micah’s lips were sealed, like his entire life was depending on this secret. Like he could hide his body behind it. 

Colm was about to punch Micah again for being so stubborn, but he didn’t want to scare him even more. After all, he indeed needed a bath and the water wouldn’t stay hot forever, so he only sighted and slapped Micah’s butt.   
„Get up!“


	13. Chapter 13

Micah didn’t hesitate for a second. He jumped up without thinking even though he still felt very uncomfortable. He was sorry that this whole situation was so awkward. Colm deserved better than this. After all he tried everything to be good to him and Micah kept ruining it. He quickly went into the tub while Colm was watching his every move. Micah flinched when the hot water touched his sensitive skin and let out a groan. Seconds later Colm was next to him, stabilizing him.

„It’s ok“, he said, patting his boy’s shoulders. He helped Micah to sit down, who couldn’t decide between being embarrassed for needing help with every simple thing and being very, very thankful to have someone caring about him for once. When he hid his body under the water, he felt much better. Sheepishly, he reached for the soup but Colm grabbed his wrist to stop him, giving him a meaningful smile.

„Let me help you with this…“ he said and took the soup himself. Micah was so taken aback by that his mouth stood open. Colm did never bath him before, that was something only a working girl would do. He must have been staring like a dumbass but his boss didn’t laugh this time. He put a hand on Micah’s chest instead, very carefully, to not touch any bruises and just pushed him back a little. „C’mon, relax…let good old Colm help you…“ Micah couldn’t help but grab the hand that lied on his chest and stroke it with caution. Colm slowly pulled it away and let his gaze wander over Micah’s body.  
„Now, where should I start? You decide…“ 

Micah’s brain had already stopped working and couldn’t process such a difficult question anymore. This wasn’t like having some saloon girl around. He helplessly offered one of his legs and was thankful when Colm just went on rubbing soap over it. Micah clutched his fingers into the brim of the tub and groaned, while his boss’ hands were all over him.

„Yes…“, he groaned, „…that’s…so…good…you’re a natural talent…“  
Colm chuckled. „I’m glad I can still surprise you.“  
He moved to the other leg and the touch tickled just as good. Colm came dangerously close to his crotch once, so Micah was afraid he would ruin the water and end this procedure way too soon. Colm seemed to relish what he caused to his body though. Micah must’ve looked stressed out by that because Colm stopped rubbing him.  
„Why…you’re still not relaxed, aren’t you?“  
Afraid that he’ll leave, Micah hurried to assure him.  
„No,no,no, it’s fine…“, he said with his hands up in defense.  
„Sssh…“, Colm shut him up, patting his boy’s cheek. „Just let me help you. Don’t be afraid.“ 

His hand stroked from his cheek to the neck and finally stopped on his shoulder, where he began to clean him and give him a relieving massage. Micah leaned forward and closed his eyes. He figured Colm was right. His muscles were hard as rocks and Colm was just so good at this. Micah purred: „Where did you learn that?“ His boss chuckled right behind his ear. „A leader must keep his secrets.“

He now stroked down his back, carefully avoiding the whipping marks. Micah still felt them anyway, but now they vanished behind the comfy cloud of lust Colm was causing. His boss washed him cautiously and generously avoided to rub soap over his back. When he reached Micah’s hips he wrapped his fingers around him, getting Micah close again, who groaned and stretched his back. His excitement was plain to see now. 

Micah begged internally for Colm to put his hands away, even though he really wanted more. Just like a reflex, he was ashamed and feared that Colm might punish him or laugh at him. Colm didn’t do either of that, instead he began to stroke Micah’s belly from behind. It was like being wrapped into a loose hug. Colm was all around him. When his boss reached Micah’s chest he only washed it with his hands, carefully fondling the bruises that needed to be cleaned from the dirt Micah had laid in. Colm grimaced when he examined them. They didn’t look good at all. Just because that fool had tried to hide them it instead of asking for help. Only he knew how long he was fighting with these wounds. 

Micah cringed at the touch but Colm had to go on. He put a hand on his boy’s head to comfort him. Micah still grabbed the brim of the tub and longed for the end of this painful procedure while trying to forget about everything but the gentle hand on his head. When Colm was content with the state of the wound he let his hand wander down again. Time to relief his boy.

His other hand pulled Micah into a kiss that he rejoined in surprise. Micah finally let go of the tub and grabbed Colm’s hair thirstily. When they parted, Micah leaned his forehead on Colm’s while his leader was working him with tight strokes. Micah gasped and whined, with the water splashing quietly around him. He spilled himself and let his trembling body sink back into the water. 

Colm then stood up and Micah followed him with his eyes, hoping he wouldn’t leave. To his relief he only went to a table and took a towel from there, which he unfolded and offered to his boy. Micah was staring at it for a while, being dumbfounded again. It was a short gesture of Colm that made him struggle up and finally step out of the water, exposing himself again. He was glad he could wrap himself into the towel and sit back on the chair.

He couldn’t sit there though and curl up into his own thoughts because Colm started to rub him dry. Fascinated, he watched his boss work on him, giving him a sense of comfort and trust he hadn’t received from anyone for a long time. Micah moved a little, so Colm could reach all the spots. His boss accepted every offer without hesitation. They didn’t speak, but even though it was all silence around them it was a privacy Micah enjoyed very much. Colm got excited from all the rubbing and massaging, so he pulled his boy into another deep and lustful kiss. They didn’t need to say anything anyway. Micah felt like those ten years he lived without Colm never happened. His boss then stood up and walked over to the table again to fetch a pile of clean clothes.

„Let’s see how long you’ll keep these,“ he said grinning and now it was Micah who chuckled. He was in such a good mood he even forgot how much he was ashamed of his own body when he stood up and let the towel fall on the ground. He tried to grab the clothes but his boss suddenly held them up in a playful manner and kept looking up and down at Micah.  
„Colm…“ Micah gave him a not really serious warning.  
„What’s a good boy saying?“, his boss teased him back.  
„Please…“ Micah came closer and reached for the clothes again.  
„Will you be careful now?“, Colm went on. „Be a good boy and stop wasting clothes?“  
„Yes, boss…“ Micah paused, then he said more concerned: „…but don’t send me away again.“

The other man stopped joking and eyed Micah more sorrowful. He still didn’t know what exactly happened during the heist. He couldn’t remember all the nonsense that had spilled out of Micah. There were more questions left to ask, this was far from being over, but now he had to comfort his boy first. He stepped towards him and wrapped him into a hug.

„It’s alright“, he whispered in his ear, „I’m not mad at you anymore.“ He thought it was a good sign that he didn’t hear him sob. With both hands he cupped Micah’s cheek and gave him a worried look. „But you have to promise me something…“.  
Micah held the gaze, nervously waiting for what his boss had to say.  
„Don’t hide in the camp forever. Try to…get over it…Whatever Dutch did to you…“ He felt his boy flinch at the name. „…it’s over now…I want you to be a man again, you understand?“ 

Micah gulped, his cheeks reddened. He had thought he knew very well what a mess he was. But hearing it from Colm like that really send a shiver down his spine. He hesitated to promise anything though. He wanted to be normal again but he had no idea how he should do this, with Dutch always around to catch him and torture him again.  
„Colm, I…“, he began, trying to explain why he couldn’t promise he would ever be the same again. His boss watched him struggle before he cut him off. 

„You won’t be alone. I’ll help you, my boy. Just tell me everything you need. And when something scares you, tell me that too. But don’t leave me high and dry here, because I won’t know how to handle you.“  
„You handle me very well“, Micah assured quickly. „I don’t know what I would do without you.“  
„So?“, Colm teased, cocking his head. Micah fiddled nervously with his boss’ shirt before he gave up. „Alright, Colm, I promise…“ He looked him into the eyes again. „…I promise, I’ll get better…and I’ll tell you everything… I just uhm…don’t know where to start. 

In a way he said it tongue in cheek, because he didn’t plan to confess Colm that he still adored the man who had tortured him. 

„Don’t worry…don’t think too hard about it…tonight, you can forget it all.“ Colm finally handed him the clothes and Micah quickly slipped into them. His boss then led him out of the bathroom. Micah’s mind was still spinning. He had never had so many mutual thoughts and feelings before. He was glad that someone was leading him, so he won’t fall apart.


End file.
